


Just One Dance

by Kawaii_Kitty360



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, But AU nonetheless, Craig as DID, Crushes, Drugging, F/F, Flirtatious Mark is best Mark, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Moving Fast, Multi, NSFW anYMORE OOPS, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Not sure which AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pole Dancing, Revenge isn't as sweet as you'd image, Septiplier - Freeform, Small edits constantly being made, So Fuckin' Gay rn, Teasing, The sex, Various OCs - Freeform, aCTUAL BUTSEX, alL oF thE bUT sECS, all my sources come from that one south park episode, because that's always fun right, blowjobs yo, city sushi, drinks have been drugged, excusE me aS I SIN, idk how multiple personalities work, jealousy is a bad time, just a lot of non-con, lots of badness, male strip club, no bueno, or multiple personalities, or whatever, practically rape, probly explicit, strip club, things being inserted places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 37,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7379566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaii_Kitty360/pseuds/Kawaii_Kitty360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A guy walked into a bar and fell in love with one of the dancers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** **Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~
> 
> ~~If you have not read I'll Make You A Deal, go do it.~~
> 
> ~~Some of the ideas I got came from said story; it does not belong in the same universe nor follow the same plot-line as it. I just figured I'd give credit where I thought it was due.~~
> 
> ~~(First story on this site; still getting used to the settings and options and whatnot. Soz)~~
> 
> So, uh, _I'll Make You A Deal_ seems to have vanished mysteriously off the face of the web, so I'm a little confused. But if it ever decides to reappear from the depths, I'll be sure to credit it again :v

Sean McLoughlin never pictured himself walking into a strip club at any point in his life, let alone one filled with men. The music instantly penetrated through his head, causing him to wince as he looked around. It smelt like a strange mix between sweat, cologne and smoke; a sudden change from the 'fresh' LA air he had come from. He was supposed to be meeting with some of his friends, and honestly had no idea why he accepted. He wasn't entirely excited about being in a room with probably a hundred men packed like sardines. He weaved through the bodies, careful not to knock anybody's drinks to the floor, muttering apologizes when he bumped somebody or nearly stepped on their feet. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, let alone with a potentially drunk guy.

His eyes scanned from side to side, carefully examining every face for people he knew, or anybody who looked worth his time. Finding nobody, he settled with sitting at the bar, pulling out his phone to ask the person who invited him out where he was.

"Can I get you anything?"

Jack, as he preferred to be called, looked up, meeting the gaze of a warm-eyed gentleman in a wife-beater with a forced smile on his face.

Not really feeling like facing a hangover, Jack ordered a single Screwdriver and turned his attention back to his phone, quickly sending a message to his friend before looking out over the dance floor. Men were grinding against each other, some just dancing like Sims and some dancing like they were trying to swat a swarm of bees from their heads. All-in-all, it was quite amusing, and Jack hid his cringing grin behind his drink.

"Hey, Markle! How about another dance, 'eh?"

The shout brought Jack's attention to an older man, probably in his forties, waving a twenty in the direction of somebody with a pink bowtie around his neck, his face red and beads of sweat on his body from being on stage for so long. He had a pair of what looked like boxer-briefs that almost rode a little too close to his crotch. He had black hair, cut down on both sides to give his hair a more fluffy appearance towards the top, standing slightly up on it's own with the help of sweat. He didn't look the type of be up there, as the rest of the men had either halfway shaven, or completely shaven heads. Combined with his glistening, olive skin, fit body, and clear muscles, the next thing Jack noticed was his arms. The veins were showing beneath his taunt skin from how overworked he was, and they only became more prominent as he messed with his hair a bit. Jack couldn't help but stare, which wasn't much of a surprise to anybody around. They didn't call it a gay strip club for no reason.

Markle, which Jack could only assume to be his stripper name, approached the man, taking the twenty as a sickening grin formed on the elder's face. Markle had to step back to allow the chunky man to stand, and seemed to drag his feet as he followed him to the back. It seemed like the man knew where to go, which probably meant that they've had a lot more sessions alone. For some reason, the situation made Jack's skin crawl and stomach churn, and he couldn't help but down his drink quickly, placing it on the counter along with another five, the sound of his drink being refilled drowned out by the music blasting through the speakers scattered around the bar.

A hand gripped his shoulder tightly, causing Jack to jump and whip around, ready to deck somebody in the face, but only met the shit-eating grin of the friend who invited him, his boyfriend and the second third wheel in tow.

"Hey, you made it!" Aaron noticed happily, quite proud of himself in his ability to catch Jack off guard. His boyfriend, Alex, shifted on his feet while Craig, the second third wheel, awkwardly looked around, looking quite unhappy with the situation. "How long were you waiting?"

Jack didn't know when he walked in, but he estimated only a couple of minutes. "Not long. I wasn't sure you were going to even show up."

Aaron placed a hand on his heart, reeling back. "I wouldn't ditch you here, Jack! I told you we had to pick up Craig, too. It's your fault that you didn't wait outside like I suggested."

Jack looked at his phone, at the message before his recently sent one. Indeed, Aaron had offered for Jack to wait so they could go in together rather then Jack walking in and risk the possibility of getting hit on (oh the agony). "Well, whatever. You're here now, and that's all that matters." Jack stood, Aaron watching him as he did so. "Where are we going to sit?"

Aaron tugged Alex's hand, leading him away as Jack placed a couple of bills on the counter, downing his drink and following Craig's shuffling frame towards an open booth where Aaron and Alex were already sitting.

Jack slid in next to Craig, keeping his hands in his lap as he scanned the floor again. There were a few close stages, but Jack paid them no mind as he looked at the silhouettes of people, trying to see their faces in the spastic multicolored lights overhead. Even if he wasn't actually looking for somebody to get with, he wouldn't turn down and opportunity for some good eye candy. 

"What were you drinking earlier, Jack? I know you're Irish, but calm down and take it easy with the drinks, alright?"

Jack pulled a face at Aaron's comment and raised his middle finger, causing the man to snicker. "It was just a Screwdriver. Don't worry about it, _mom_. I don't think I'm going to be drinking much tonight."

"Suit yourself," Aaron shrugged, looking around for a waiter. "But don't hesitate to let me know if you want something."

Jack's gaze inched towards the doors he saw the man and Markle disappear behind minutes ago, wondering how long a normal session was. When he looked at his phone before he heard the request, it was roughly 10:34, and it was now almost 10:42. He unlocked his phone and began to search through his apps when, for some reason, he looked back up and saw the man exiting, Markle soon following after. He held a fist to his mouth, eyes trained on the ground in thought. He looked less sweaty than he was when he walked in, a more disgusted look on his face rather than one of exhaustion. Jack noticed him quickly scurrying towards the bar before disappearing from his gaze, and he didn't want to let his friends know he was being a creep and looked back at his phone.

Aaron moved his free hand, the other wrapped around Alex's shoulders, holding it up in a way to motion a server over, and Jack locked his phone so he could order when it was his turn. 

"What can I get for you, gentlemen?"

Jack's head turned to meet olive, glistening skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if it's bad; I literally wrote this just now and I admit it's probably not the best thing you've ever read but hey.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite nearly this whole chapter smh  
> Got it done, tho!!

Before Jack even looked up, he knew. How he knew was what he didn’t know, but as his stomach churned, he blamed it on the two screwdrivers he downed mere minutes before. He was surprised he didn’t have the hiccups, but there was no time to worry about whether his chest was convulsing or not because Aaron was already done ordering and the pink bowtie-wearing man was scribbling down Alex’s order next. 

Craig ordered rum and cola, and before the black haired worker was done writing it down, Jack blurted out for another screwdriver.

“Jeez, Jack, that’s your third one! Order something different for once,” Aaron scoffed and met Markle’s gaze. “He’ll take a White Russian.”

Jack had to crane his neck to see Markle’s reaction, but he was certainly not comfortable with Aaron’s suggestion. “Not to be rude, but he said he wanted a screwdriver.”

Jack’s body tensed, which must’ve been evident, as Craig placed a hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but his deep voice was definitely not it.

Aaron smiled, and, surprisingly, it wasn’t fake or forced. “That wasn’t rude at all, Mr…?”

Markle adverted his gaze for a minute for responding. “Markle-Sparkle. Don’t ask. Just call me Mark, please.”

Aaron’s smile didn’t falter a bit as he offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mark. I’m Aaron, this is Alex.” His boyfriend nodded in greeting as he fiddled with the corner of a napkin. “The stone-faced emo is Craig, and Mr. Screwdriver here is Jack.” 

After Mark shook Aaron’s hand, he offered it around, ending on Jack after each introduction. Mark smiled to all of them, and looked once again at Jack.

“So, did you want a Screwdriver or a White Russian?”

Fuck it, Jack decided, and let out a breath. “White Russian, I s’pose.”

Mark’s brows knit, but nodded slowly and wrote it down. “I’ll be right back with your order.” Despite being unsure, he winked at the table and walked away.

“Thank you!” Aaron called over the music and smirked at Jack. “He’s a cutie, ain’t he?” 

Jack looked back to see Mark lifting his arm to scratch at the back of his neck. The way his muscles bulged made Jack swallow hard before looking back forward just in time to notice Aaron’s eyes suddenly change from friendly to what looked like hunger. Before Jack was sure, though, Aaron blinked it away and pressed his lips to Alex’s cheek.

Jack said nothing as he looked at his phone again, the heat of Craig’s palm on his back spreading down his spine. A voice in his brain suggested to shake him off, but Craig seemed to realize his hand was still there, too, and pulled back, the tips of his fingers lightly touching his shirt before he placed his hand back in his lap. 

“I think he’s into you, Jack,” Aaron voiced again, eyes fixed on something. Jack was sure he was staring at Mark, but said nothing as he unlocked his phone again to find a text from a friend. He ignored it and continued with his game, allowing Aaron’s voice to fade behind the music.

 

A few minutes later, Mark came back with the drinks, setting them down and voicing them as he did. He paused for the person to take it before placing the next one, putting Jack’s right in front of him. “Your wings will be ready in a few. If you need anything else, I’ll be around.”

Jack jumped a bit as Mark gripped his shoulder, dragging his fingers as he walked away. He was sure it was just part of the job, being flirtatious to gain more tips. Jack had no doubt he easily earned at least $40 every day with his good looks and easy-going aura, not to mention how much he earned by giving out sessions and dancing. All Jack knew was that he was making serious bank.

“Are you happy you came with us now?” Aaron asked playfully, grinning. “It looks like somebody’s got their eye on you.”

Jack wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Craig tense beside him before he looked around the area. “Who?”

Aaron reached across and playfully swatted his arm, which was laying on the table, bent so his fist was laying in front of him. “Oh, come on, Jack. You know exactly who?”

“He’s just doing that for tips.” Jack looked back at his phone screen, figuring the conversation was done, fully aware of the way his voice sounded too monotone for his comfort. 

“Don’t be too sure,” Alex commented, motioning with his jaw somewhere behind the brunet. Jack and Craig both turned in their seat, noticing Mark placing a couple of drinks on the table. He kept his hands on his tray, but Jack saw his head move in the way one would if he winked, or even kissed the air before walking away. While walking towards the bar, somebody reached out and smacked his ass-- hard. Mark nearly dropped the tray, before scurrying by faster, turning his head ever-so-slightly in the direction of Jack’s table. His hand gripped the back of the seat and he almost stood if it weren’t for a hand on his knee. He looked back at Craig, who shook his head, and Jack sighed, settling back in his seat as he forced himself to ignore the anger bubbling in his veins. Aaron’s drink was halfway gone, Alex’s looked like it was hardly touched while Craig was ready for a refill. Jack took his first sip, the strength hitting him hard and he scrunched up his face, placing the glass back down. He hadn’t drank anything that strong in a while, so it caught him off guard. Aaron’s laughter made it over the music, and Jack flipped him off while holding his opposite hand to his lips.

Not even two minutes later, Mark came back with what seemed like a small limp and he placed the two things of wings on the table. “Here you guys are. Sorry it took a little longer than usual; I’m the only waiter at the moment for this side of the club.”

“That’s alright, Sparkle,” Aaron said with a wink, causing Mark to look away, as though uncomfortable, and Alex to nuzzle into his neck. “As long as they got here, it’s fine. Here.” Nearly elbowing his boyfriend, Aaron fished out his wallet and handed him a $10. “This is just part of the tip.” He winked again, and Mark’s teeth showed over his bottom lip, not quite biting it, but slightly grazing it. 

“T-Thank you.” It seemed like he wanted to continue, but wasn’t sure how as he rubbed the corners awkwardly.

Aaron smiled as though he were looking at a small puppy. “Aaron, in case you forgot.”

“N-No, I didn’t,” Mark covered quickly, making Aaron chuckle. “I just… I wasn’t sure if it was okay to call you by name.”

“Of course it is, Marky,” Aaron sung, holding his hand to the side with a nonchalant smile. “Feel free to call us by our names. You’re cool; we could probably be friends. If you wanted.”

Mark’s eyes seemed to light up, but the lights were all over the place, so Jack wasn’t sure. “O-Oh. I should pr-probably head back.”

Aaron slightly frowned as Mark scuttled away without another word, Jack’s eyes following him as he weaved back to the bar. “He’s probably not allowed to talk to customers for too long,” Aaron reasoned as he lifted his glass to his lips, tipping it back to persuade more of the liquid to flow down his throat. Did he even swallow? Jack took a sip of his own drink to silence the lewd thoughts that arose from the question. 

The rest of the time was as awkward as you could imagine, with Mark swinging by nearly four times to refill Alex’s and Craig’s glasses, Aaron and Jack both on their second ones. It was nearly midnight by the time the group tuckered out. 

Alex was giggling something in Aaron’s ear, and Craig looked like he was about to pass out from boredom when a familiar voice spoke beside the table, making them all look up. “You guys ready?”

Mark looked like he was ready to leave, his eyes heavy and his frame exhausted. He still wasn’t wearing anything but his pink bowtie and boxer-briefs, but Jack wasn’t complaining.

“Yes,” Aaron answered, and Mark nodded tiredly, taking all their cups onto the tray he held before placing a receipt on a small clipboard on the table before leaving in silence. Aaron and Jack both fished out their wallets, paying the bill and leaving a couple dollars for tips.

Aaron helped Alex out of the booth, the wasted man slumping on his boyfriend with a drunk giggle and a hiccup as Jack wormed his way out, his mind feeling slightly fuzzy, but nothing that would impair him too badly. Jack was never one to drink and drive, but he knew he was completely fine to get home safely. Craig stood close to Jack, to the point where he could almost feel his jeans on the back of his hand. He drew his arms to his chest to avoid any awkward situations. 

As Aaron helped Alex waddle his way out the club, Jack looked back past Craig to see Mark taking the receipt and tips, making his way back to the bar to drop of the money. As they neared the entrance, Jack lost sight of the tan worker, and turned his gaze to the back of Aaron’s head. 

“You gonna be okay?” Aaron asked once they were in the cool LA air. Jack nodded, rubbing at one of his eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t feel to bad. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You absolutely sure? I don’t want to get a call from the hospital saying that you crashed your car.” Jack waved him off with a snort.

“I’m fine. Just make sure these doofs get home safe.”

Aaron smiled and balanced Alex, who swayed on his feet. “Wasn’t planning on anything different.”

Jack waved to them, Craig holding up his hand as he followed Aaron back to his car, accompanied by the giggling fool named Alex.

Jack looked back at the club door for a few seconds before heading the opposite direction of Aaron’s group, pulling out his car keys as he did. He hit the unlock button before he reached the automobile, opening the driver side door and clamboring in, pushing the keys in before heaving his other foot into the car, shutting the door. He exhaled, sitting back in the seat, before starting the car, backing up, and driving out of the parking lot, not noticing the man with fluffy black hair exit the club mere seconds before he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a feeling I messed up somewhere.  
> If you notice any mistakes, please let me know! ^.^


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you may be wondering why I'm updating so early.   
> Well, let me tell you.  
> I'm going on a trip, and it's going to be overlapping this upcoming Saturday, and probably the next. I didn't know if I had time to update tomorrow so I figured I'd be safe and update today.   
> I hope you enjoy this terribly short early update! :D

“You’re fucking joking me.”

Aaron sighed. “C’mon, Jack. It’ll only be for about an hour. I know you want to see him again.”

“If I wanted to see him,” Jack growled into the receiver of his iPhone, holding the USB controller in his hand to the side at an angle in aggravation, “I would go on my own.”

“But Jaaaackk…” Aaron drawled out and Jack could practically see his pout. “I wanna go and you’re the only one who will go with me.”

“That’s a lie, cuz I’m not going.”

Jack placed his controller in front of his keyboard, standing from his chair with a huff as Aaron made more whining noises in despair. “Jack, come on already. Please, just humor me and come.”

“Why do you even want to go so badly?” Jack asked as he rounded into his kitchen, already having made it downstairs in search for something delicious to feast his teeth into.

“I’ll buy you Domino’s afterwards.”

Jack had always been a sucker for pizza, glancing at the half-empty box in his fridge that would soon need to be replaced. It was tempting, but Aaron avoided the question. He repeated it to make sure it got across this time, and Aaron sighed. 

“Listen, okay? I care about you, and Mark seems like a really interesting guy, so--”

“Oh, no,” Jack cut him off, pulling the pizza box out and kicking the fridge shut with his foot. “Remember last time you tried to play matchmaker?”

“This won’t end up like Caesar, I promise!” Aaron puffed hotly, making Jack roll his eyes. 

“That was the first and only time I let you coax me into a relationship and you remember full well of how it ended. Mark’s just going to be a repeat.”

“He won’t!” Aaron persisted, Jack shutting the cupboard he was in and placing his little plate on the counter. “He seems different.”

“So did Caesar.”

“Jack, come on. You sense it too, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered sarcastically, putting the call on speaker. “Should I?”

“Yes! I’ve seen the way you--”

“Don’t. Pull that bullshit on me. Last time--”

“Yes, I know. Last time didn’t work out, but… Mark…”

“You don’t even know Mark. At least you knew Caesar, but none of us know who Mark is. He… he could have genital herpes for all we know.”

“He is a stripper…” Aaron murmured to himself, and Jack flung his hands in the air, as if proving a point. Not like Aaron could see the action, but it still felt good to do. “But obviously you’ve got something on your mind about him, being as you instantly made the connection to sex rather than friends.”

Jack wanted to hang up. “I only said that because Caesar…” He couldn’t bring himself to continue and heaved a sigh. 

“I know.” Aaron simply muttered as Jack opened the pizza box, put a piece of pizza on the plate, and put the box back in the fridge. Jack was closer to his phone, making it easier for him to hear if Aaron said anything as he popped the pizza in the microwave. “But Mark doesn’t seem like the guy to sleep around. I can tell he gets attached easily, and he seems really emotional.”

Aaron was a really good judge of character, but learning all that just from one night of him being their waiter? “Where are you?”

Aaron didn’t reply right away, but he didn’t have to. Jack already knew.

“How long have you been there?”

The caller sighed. “About… nearly an hour before I called you.”

“Jesus Christ, Aaron.”

“Hey, okay? I wanted to get to know Mark, see if he was worth our time, y’know?”

“Why. The fuck. Would-- Clearly he is worth time,” Jack interrupted himself, leaning back against the counter as the microwaved hummed nearly in his ear. 

“Actually, he’s not in. He doesn’t work today.”

Jack furrowed his brows. “So, wait, why did you call me?”

“Because I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out. Alex has work and Craig… Actually, I could call Craig. But…”

“But…?” 

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

He avoided the question. “I’m sure. Thanks for inviting me, though.”

Aaron hummed and they said goodbye, the line going dead in Jack’s ear. He sighed as he pulled the phone away from his ear right as the microwave blared against his ear, causing him to jerk away from it and nearly dropped his phone, swearing softly. 

For the rest of the day, Jack filled his face with pizza slices, his controller grease-stained and three games beaten almost in one sitting. All the while, as he mindlessly went through the motions game after game after game he could think about how badly he wished he took Aaron up on his offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does Aaron want to get Jack alone so badly? Who's this weird Caesar guy? Will he come into play later in the story? Will things heat up or is this just a filler because the author is lazy? Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUESS WHO'S BAACKK~~~
> 
> Good guess. 
> 
> Yeah! So, here I am! With another chapter, obviously! 
> 
> Sorry if it sucks, but mnehrhk
> 
> I tried D:
> 
> But in case you didn't notice the new tags, TWO NEW CHARACTERS HAVE BEEN INTRODUCED!! :D

The next time, Jack accepted. Aaron had decided to assign carpooling, which was only fair as he was also paying for the meal. 

Linkin Park was blasting nearly max volume as he drove down the highway towards Craig’s house. It wasn’t the first time he’d been there; aside from hanging out together, Craig’s brother, Sven, was the best party-hoster in his district of LA from high school, and even into college, as Sven didn’t go and was graduated by the time Jack and his friends were all sophomores. Sven didn’t want to lose his title, and, with his own house (their parents were rich and were always away so it was technically Sven’s house), held parties under Craig’s name, making his antisocial, emo younger brother seem way cooler and “hopefully pick up more chicks”, as his brother said when Jack asked. 

It worked a couple of times, but that was until Craig told his brother than he was gay, in which his brother changed it to “hopefully pick up more asses to ram” (or, “hot boys”, for a nicer version), much to the discomfort of their parents. 

Jack’s fingers were tapping the steering wheel in beat to the song, waiting for Craig to emerge from the front door. He already texted him to say he was there, in which Craig responded with a simple “k”, leaving Jack to headbang vigorously to the random Slipknot song that had come on next. 

It wasn’t the first time Craig had seen Jack jamming so hard he nearly gave himself whiplash, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

“One day your head’s going to fly off,” Craig teased as he climbed into the car, Jack’s hand reaching to turn down the player as the song began to end. 

“It’d be worth it,” Jack decided, knocking into reverse and looking behind him to make sure he didn’t take out any mailboxes, pedestrians, or cars. “At least I’ll die having fun.”

“Is that a jab towards me being emo?” Craig’s voice was completely serious, but Jack knew he wasn’t. His jaw dropped slightly, feigning astonishment.

“Why would I even _joke_ about that?” he asked, slapping a hand to his chest. Craig snorted and slapped his bicep. 

“Because you know I’m too big of a chickenshit to do anything serious.”

“Still doesn’t give me permission to joke about it. Still doesn’t give anybody permission to joke about it!”

Craig fell silent, reaching forward to turn up the next song. Jack didn’t have time to hear it, though, as Craig switched it to the radio and looked out the window. 

An awkward silence fell over the boys as Jack switched into a turn lane leading towards the club. A song Jack had heard but didn’t actually listen to was on, but he didn’t find it catchy enough to tap his fingers to it. His phone buzzed in the compartment, and Craig grabbed it, looking at the screen. 

“It’s Aaron. He just wants to know if we’re almost there.”

Craig knew Jack’s lock combination, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard his keyboard clicking as the tanned man hurriedly messaged him back, locking the phone and placing it back where it was. 

“I told him we were almost there.”

“Cool.”

Not even five minutes later, Jack put the car in park, shutting off his car. They waited a few seconds before stepping out into the LA air. Aaron was blowing up Jack’s phone, and as he read them, he felt Craig’s hand wrap around his wrist and tug him towards the club entrance. It was the same bouncer as the night before, who recognized them both. Who else in LA had green hair, bright blue eyes, and small studs that looked like blue eyes that had been severely infected? 

That’s right.

Nobody.

“IDs,” the man asked simply, and they both fished the cards out of their wallets without much say. He let them in, Craig still dragging Jack behind him.

Aaron’s texts didn’t make any sense, and with no luck deciphering them, he locked his phone and put it in his back pocket and let Craig lead him towards the same table they sat at before. 

“There you are!” Aaron shouted above the music as they sat down in the same formation. Alex looked like he was already half drunk, which made Jack wonder how long they’d been there. “There are some cute waiters around, but check who's up on stage! Hurry; you might miss him!”

How could he? The moment Jack’s eyes landed on one of the poles, he nearly choked on his own saliva. Mark was currently upside-down, holding himself in place by his thighs, hands wrapped around the bottom beneath his head. 

Jack was so allured (and trying as hard as he could to fight down a hard-on) that he didn’t notice the waiter next to the table.

“Are you guys ready?”

Jack looked up to see a man with frizzy brown hair, an enticing smile and patient eyes trained straight on him. He was wearing a black bowtie, almost similar to Mark’s, and a pair of torn jean booty shorts with white briefs underneath. He was fairly attractive, but Jack’s gaze flickered back to Mark for a split second before ordering a White Russian again.

“Aahh…” the man hummed as he wrote down Jack’s order, having already gotten the others’. “So you’re Mr. White Russian. You’re just as cute as I imagined.”

“E-Excuse me?” Jack looked at Aaron, who shrugged, and Alex was too far gone to even stop giggling. Poor guy and his low alcohol tolerance. 

“Oh, sorry. I’m Sexbang, but call me Dan. Me and my buh-- my friend Arin work with Mark.”

He hitched a thumb towards a man in a blue dress with a sort of fin on the back, taking the order of another table. He had a headband on, with some type of animal ears attached to them, and white gloves covered his hands like some sort of Sonic cosplay. Jack was surprised to see such an outfit on a man in a place like this, but instantly pushed it from his mind as it was replaced with ‘What the fuck’. Arin was obviously being flirted with, and somebody was roughly massaging the back of his upper thigh. 

“Hey, is touching allowed?” Jack found himself asking, and Dan hummed before looking back at Arin. Instantly, he tensed, and excused himself. He went out of his way to pass by the man groping his coworker’s thigh and smacked him with his elbow. It seemed on accident, however that works, and the man instantly got the message and backed off. 

“Mr. White Russian,” Aaron repeated with a large smirk, and Jack flipped him off.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jack growled, looking up to the pole to see Mark doing some complex tricks that caused his blood pressure to spike. What made matters worse, was that when Mark landed, he met Jack’s gaze, and sensually thrusted into the pole. 

Fuck that guy. What gave him the right?

Jack muttered the phrase under his breath for extra measures as he pulled out his phone for a distraction. A few minutes later, Dan came back and delivered their drinks.

“Sorry to bail out like that,” he apologized, but didn’t explain why. He didn’t need to.

“That’s quite alright,” Aaron assured. “Though, we didn’t get to introduce ourselves. I’m Aaron, this is my boyfriend, Alex.” At the mention of his name, he flicked his wrist and took a sip of his drink. “Black hoodie is Craig, and Mr. White Russian is Jack.”

Dan smiled warmly, shaking hands with all of them, much like how Mark did. “Does everybody have as nice of manners as you guys?” Jack found himself asking as Dan withdrew his hand from Craig and offered it to him.

Dan chuckled. “I’m sure we all would, if people were as nice as you guys.”

“Awh,” Aaron cooed as he sipped his drink. “We’re not _that_ nice.”

“Trust me, you guys are some of the nicests I’ve seen in a long time,” Dan assured, looking up at Mark, then around for what Jack could only assume was for Arin. 

“Well, thank you.” Aaron was what you could call the ‘leader’ of their group. He was a great sweet talker, and had a good way with words (unlike the author), usually persuading people into giving him what he wants with just a couple of sentences. “You and Mark seem really nice as well. Arin, too.”

Danny smiled. “Thank you. Arin's a babe; Mark's just an ass.”

“Good thing Jack likes ass,” Alex giggled, making Jack's blood run cold. Craig snorted and Aaron actually burst into laughter loud enough that Jack was sure Mark heard it. 

“Oh my fuck I love you,” Aaron sighed through a grin as he placed a kiss on his cheek. 

Dan smacked himself on his forehead  
“Oh, shoot, I almost forgot to ask what you wanted to eat!” he awkwardly chuckled as he pulled a notepad from his back pocket, taking the pen from the spirals, smiling awkwardly. “So, what would it be?” 

 

By the time they got their food (chicken wings again), Mark was off one of the main poles and working the bar. Because there were enough people working, the waiters could spare a couple of minutes chatting with the customers, giving Jack and his group plenty of time to get to know Dan, who told them about Arin and Mark.

Actually, Mark was the whole conversation topic. 

Jack made it known he did not want to be hearing second-hand information, but listened to every word Dan said. It was actually surprising on how well they could hear each other without having to shout (even though shouting was one of Jack's strong suits). Jack tuned out when Dan mentioned threesomes, and sometimes foursomes, fivesomes, and orgies, usually including Mark, Arin's _wife_ , and various close friends. Dan admitted he'd lied about the orgies when they all saw Jack's expression, but said the threesome was real. Rarely. And by rarely he meant never. Meaning that Mark was all Jack's.

Dan and Aaron's words, not his.

Jack still didn't know entirely who Arin was; he had his tables like Dan did, and the other waiters that were around. However, none seemed quite as interesting as Dan, Mark, and Arin, though; if anything, they looked like they were on steroids while the group of three seemed more human. Arin was a little more heavyset than his coworkers, but seemed loved just the same, which was awesome. Dan was lanky, but it sure helped him on the pole; according to Aaron, anyway. Each worker had to have their turn, as dancer and waiter, at least. Mark was one of the few who actually was a bartender at one point, so he knew what he was doing.

It was 6 when Arin got off, and 6:40 when they chipped out. Apparently, Mark worked until midnight every shift, though he was scheduled to get off at 7:15. “It's probably for his dog, Chica, and cuz he lives in a fucking awesome house,” Dan had said when Jack asked. He hadn't even touched his drink the whole time, until Dan casually gave him a Coke. They were probably on their fourth basket of wings.

Splitting the bill and Jack dropping a couple extra for a tip, they went on their way, Jack making an extra point to swing by the bar and smile at Mark, who smiled back before going back to scrubbing the glass he was holding. 

Craig clambered into the passenger seat, not quite drunk but not entirely sober, either. Jack slid into the driver seat, and they drove down the road with the radio blasting once again.

Pulling into Craig’s driveway, Jack put the car in reverse and glanced over at his black haired friend. He looked deep in thought, and Jack reached for his phone when Craig’s voice startled him.

“You know, my family used to say that I'd break a lot of girls’ hearts someday.”

“Huh?” Jack hardly had time to react as Craig suddenly leaned towards him, his emerald eyes staring into Jack's. Confused and alarmed, Jack pushed himself against the car door, cursing the seat belt for holding him from getting farther away. What was Craig trying to do? 

They sat in the position for a few moments, Craig scanning Jack’s eyes, which were scanning Craig’s face.

“U-Uh…” Jack’s voice came out shaky, but he didn’t have any time to fix it as Craig unbuckled and opened the car door, leaving in silence.

Jack blinked after him before adjusting himself and backing up, his mind racing almost as fast as his car was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I warned you that it sucked XD
> 
> I'm not a pole dancer XD the only pole dancing anything I've seen is either in GTAV or from Mark himself sooooooooOOOoo~~~
> 
> But, on a different note, what the fuCK CRAiG? 
> 
> Be careful, man; the Septiplier shippers might come destroy you if you're not careful~!
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, but plEASe, if you find any mistakes do nOt hesitate to let me know. I want this to be an easy read (it's not gonna with my sporadic writing kms), and I don't really have a proof-reader, and I'm too lazy to go back and re-read it myself, so if you notice anything please please plEase let me know!
> 
> Thank you~ <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping for a longer chapter but I don't think I did it.

Jack pawned the motion of Craig trying to kiss him as a drunken haze and didn’t let it faze him or their friendship. Craig didn’t seem to remember even attempting it, but Jack didn’t put it past really good acting. For all he knew, Craig would spend his nights grinding a pillow and husking his name.

…moving on.

Aaron had somehow gotten Dan’s number, and gave it to Jack in case he ever wanted to talk to him. Dan already had Jack’s, however, as when Jack texted him, he responded with ‘hey jack’ and a smiley face. Jack didn’t bother asking, but soon figured out that Dan was a lot of fun to talk to. Their conversations ranged from videogames to how hot Mark looked during practice, including some pretty raunchy pictures of the man. Not like Jack was complaining, but he had no direct way to respond to the images. 

Dan had sent Mark’s number to Jack, too, but Jack just stored it in his phone. For later, he decided. How long later was… Jack didn’t want to think about it. When Dan told him that he sent Jack’s number to Mark, however, Jack found himself staring at his phone a lot more often than usual. 

Not that Mark had anything to do with it…

Dan was just fun to talk to…

Yeah.

Jack was in the middle of another game when he heard his phone buzz against the desk. His hand jerked out and he picked it up, awakening the screen to see who it was. It was Dan, inviting him and Craig to a party at what the apartment he, Arin, and a couple of their other friends shared. He said there was to be games, food, fun times…

And Mark.

Now, Dan had Jack hooked the moment he mentioned food, but also Mark?

Sign him the fuck up.

Dan gave him the address, and told him to start heading over at around 6, sooner if he wanted to help set up. Jack, being in the middle of a game and still needing a little bit of time to get ready, declined the offer and unpaused, setting an alarm on his phone for 3:45. He’d need a bit of time to shower, get ready, and mentally prepare himself for seeing Mark.

~

Jack was the type of guy to listen to music to destress, but he didn’t even notice that his drive to Craig’s was devoid of background noise. He felt as though he was going to be sick, but maybe that was because he hadn’t eaten since 2, and what he did eat was a slice of pizza and one breadstick. Not entirely the best meal, but it was all he could hunker down before feeling like he was going to hurl it back up onto the carpet. There’d be food at the party, sure, but he wasn’t certain he’d be able to eat anything. He couldn’t recall a time he was this nervous, other than…

He pushed the thought of the other man from his memory and waited patiently for Craig to finish getting ready. 

“What, your neck hurt?” was the first thing Craig said when he jumped into Jack’s car. Jack didn’t understand until the tanner of the two turned on his radio, filling the car with the ending of a Metallica song. “You weren’t listening to anything. Finally realize that you’d like to keep your head on your shoulders?”

Jack took in a shaky breath as he merged back onto the highway, glancing at his phone for directions. “It was so I could hear the directions better.”

“But we’re just heading there.”

Jack didn’t grace the statement with an answer, turning on his turn signal and sliding over. 

“You sure you’re alright? You seem a little… antsy.”

Jack was definitely not alright, but he wasn’t going to tell Craig that. “I’m fine.”

Craig hummed, messed with the radio volume, and looked out the window, like he usually did. Jack wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel bad for not telling Craig he was nervous and a little excited to see some guy who dances on a pole for a living who called him Mr. White Russian. He decided that he didn’t have to tell every inch of his life to his friend, and focused on driving. 13 minutes til their destination… Jack hoped he could calm down within that time. He didn’t want to risk heaving up digested pizza in front of the party attenders. 

Boy would that make a great first impression.

 

Hi guys! Welcome to the party!”

Craig could sense Jack’s nervousness and slightly nudged him, his fingers lightly touching the back of Jack’s hand. Jack gave him an awkward smile, and let Craig go in first. 

Dan smiled encouragingly at the Irishman and wrapped his arm around Jack when he walked in. “I’m so glad you guys made it. Mark isn’t here yet, but that gives plenty of time for you to meet the rest of the gang!”

As if on cue, the group sitting on the couch looked up to where Dan and Jack were standing. Craig had ventured in slightly more, already making conversation with Arin and some other guy in the kitchen. “Hi!” a blond man greeted, flailing his arm intensely. “I’m Ross!” He stood and approached them. 

“He makes animations,” Dan continued as they shook hands.

“Yeah, I draw from time to time,” he shrugged, waving the statement off. “But it’s nice to meet you! Dan and Arin told us about you and your group!” 

Jack’s attention was pulled from the artist by motion from a hallway. He wasn’t surprised to see it was Aaron, who waved with a smirk. Alex came from the kitchen, holding a tray of treats. 

“Oh, has he?” Jack looked at Dan with a look, who flashed a grin. 

“How could I not? You guys seem really awesome.”

Dan introduced the rest of them: Suzy, Arin’s wife, Vernon, Kevin, Brent, _another_ Jack who was also Irish, and Ross’s wife, Holly. Barry was the one in the kitchen, helping Arin make snacks, but when their names were mentioned, they both said their greetings. One other member, Brian, had yet to arrive. 

“When’s Mark gonna get here?” Suzy asked before she stood up and stretched slightly, making her way to the kitchen. 

“He said he’d be a little late, but sometime around 6. It’s only 5:59, so he’s not late yet,” Vernon announced as Dan led Jack to couch to get comfortable. He gave a verbal tour of the house, in which the only room Jack cared about was the bathroom. He had a feeling he was going to have to make a dash for it soon.

Suzy and Arin were finishing up the snacks when Dan’s phone buzzed. He looked at it, his eyes lighting up in a way that made Jack slightly squirm. The other Jack was doing a good job at distracting him, though, and he found the nervousness in his stomach dissipating bit by bit.

Something smacked against the front door, causing Jack to jerk slightly, but he struggled to keep his attention on the other Jack as he talked about… what was he talking about?

“Sorry I’m late!”

Jack’s attention hit the door, his blue eyes meeting the flustered gaze of Markle-Sparkle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crap, man, I need to watch more Game Grumps. What even are personalities?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I'M KINDA LATE BUT IT'S HERE DON'T PANIC

Jack was going to hurl.

He told himself not to, like that was going to help any. 

The moment Mark had entered the apartment, Jack knew there was no saving him. Especially not after he made eye contact. 

He was fucked, and not in any good way. 

Dan had stood to greet his coworker with a hug, who hugged him back with a grin. “No need to be so happy to see me, Dan. You see me literally every day.”

“I know,” Dan said simply, and Arin poked his head out the kitchen. 

“Is that Mark?” he asked playfully, and Mark opened his arms with a modest look. 

“Nah, It’s… kr-Kram…” 

“Kram?!” Arin gasped loudly, sarcastically. Mark’s face instantly filled with relief. “My favorite guy!” 

Mark, Dan, and a couple other people seated on the couch chuckled as Arin warmed his arms around Mark lovingly. “So glad you could actually make it. You need to live a little more.”

“Yeah, I know. Work sometimes gets ahead of my life, y’know?” Mark said while rubbing the back of his neck. Jack had yet to tear his eyes from him, but Mark didn’t notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t pay any mind.

Why would he? He basically got stared at for a living.

But damn did he look good in the black plaid shirt.

“You know the drill,” Arin said as he walked back to the kitchen, giving Dan’s hand a squeeze as he walked by. Dan made his way back to Jack, flopping down and patting a spot next to him. Which happened to be right next to Jack, too. 

Mark noticed this, for sure, and caught Jack’s gaze again as he made his way over. Jack shifted awkwardly, making more room for him and nearly bumping hips with Kevin, who traded spots with the other Jack when he got up to do something. It was unnecessary, however, because the moment Mark’s ass hit the couch, Dan stood. They both looked up at him in a pleading way, but Dan paid no mind as he excused himself to the kitchen. That left the two of them in an awkward silence, Jack staring at the TV in front of him where Ross was playing some sort of horse game? Jack couldn’t comprehend the mechanics, as his mind was racing by even being next to Mark.

Fuck he could smell his cologne.

“So, uh…” Jack nearly pissed himself at the voice humming in his right ear. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jack practically squeaked, but quickly coughed over it. “Sorry. Hi.”

Mark gave a soft smile and looked slightly away. “Jack, right?”

“Yeah.”

His smile never left. “I feel like this party’s going to get confusing fast.”

“Wha--”

As if on cue, a voice yelled from the kitchen: “Jack!”

Jack and the other Jack both made some sort of noise in confusion. 

“Which Jack?” Mark hollered, but not loud enough to bother Jack’s ears. He’d listened to music louder than Mark’s baritone voice. 

“Fuck-- Our Jack!”

“Doesn’t help!” Sean-Jack felt flattered that Mark considered him part of ‘theirs’. 

“Not-Green Jack!” 

That cleared things up a little better, and the other Jack heaved himself from the other side of Kevin and made his way to kitchen, where the voice was coming from. Jack slightly chuckled and looked back at Mark to see that he was slightly closer, giving Jack a full view of his brown eyes. They seemed to have golden flakes in them, and Jack found himself getting lost in their beauty. 

“Your eyes are beautiful.”

Jack found that sometimes his eyes varied from shades of blue, sometimes bright sky blue, and other times deep ocean blue. They usually showed his emotions, sky blue usually being happy and/or excited, and deep ocean blue being relaxed and calm. He wondered what color his eyes fluctuated to the moment Mark said those words.

“Th-Thanks,” Jack said, his voice a hair softer than he intended it to be, as though he were sharing a secret. “Yours are beautiful, too.”

Mark offered him a soft, steady smile, and Jack couldn’t help but notice how his eyes crinkled. Could this guy get any more amazing?

“Can you guys stop molesting each other with your eyes and either kiss already or get some snacks Jesus Christ.” Dan’s voice caused them both to jump back slightly, this time Jack actually nudged Kevin slightly, who wrapped his arm around Jack and leaned in seductively. The look on Mark’s face as Kevin did it (and waggled his eyebrows at least 30+ times without Jack’s knowledge) was enough to make Jack crack a grin, and Mark to give one back.

Fuck his eye crinkles were gorgeous.

They both tore their gazes from each other with soft giggles, and Jack found that he scooted a bit off Kevin and a bit closer to Mark. There was still room for Dan to squeeze back between them, if he wanted. 

Jack stole one more glance at the American, catching the way the TV’s reflection shone off his glasses and the way he still slightly smiled despite having nothing to smile to. What a nice resting face.

Wait.

Mark wore glasses? 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Jack murmured to him under the group’s laughing as Ross quit the game, calling it a pile of unfair horse shit. 

“Work doesn’t really allow them,” Mark replied, moving over as Kevin lightly pushed Jack. They were on the part of the couch that bent, perfectly aligned with the coffee table in the middle that was currently covered with soda cans, a tray of snacks, bags of chips, and a WiiU, which Dan was holding. No wonder so much shifting was needed; Dan and Arin had squeezed in at the end of the couch, pushing the people sitting to the right. That’s when Jack realized that it was planned. “Safety concern and whatnot.”

“Worried they’ll fly off and hit a customer?” Jack asked with a slight joke to his voice, which was enough to draw a bigger smile from the hazel-eyed man. 

“Yeah. Something like that.”

The words ‘Super Mario Maker’ appeared on the TV, and Mark and Jack both let out a soft groan to the words while Arin and Dan chattered to themselves. 

“Don’t like this game?” Jack inquired, feeling slightly shocked with the fact that Mark had any time to game in his spare time. Maybe he’d ask if he had a Steam, or if they could play Overwatch together sometime in the future. 

“I’m an easy rager,” Mark explained as Vernon typed in a code for Arin to play. 

Jack nodded, but couldn’t really agree. Sure, some things got under his skin but he didn’t really get all that angry.

“Ever heard of I Am Bread?”

Jack sure had. He nodded again. Mark let out a huff with a weird look that surely wasn’t good. 

“I broke my controller playing that game, if that says anything.”

Jack had given I Am Bread a try multiple times, having not broken a controller, nor even come close to breaking a keyboard over it. It got on his nerves, but nothing too serious. “Damn,” he said practically under his breath. 

“I nearly broke my best friend’s WiiU pad playing this game.”

Before Jack could respond, Dan leaned forward and smirked Mark’s way. “Hey, Marky~! Wanna play with us?”

Mark let out a shallow laugh, raising the middle finger Dan’s way. The brunette laughed and leaned back, Arin giving a goofy grin to both of them before offering them a derpy thumbs up. Mark mocked him, but the goofiness instantly fell the moment he did it. Jack snorted, which caused them both to laugh harder. It was insane how they clicked almost instantly. 

Looking at Arin made Jack’s gaze catch Aaron’s, who was sitting next to Dan. He seemed to be enjoying himself, Alex nustled between him and Vernon, who had stole the other Jack’s seat. Not like it mattered; Not-Sean-Jack was in the kitchen for the moment, along with Craig and Suzy. Speaking of the black-haired man, Jack hadn’t seen him since they arrived. Jack had almost completely forgotten about him.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, if you don’t mind?” Mark offered, causing Jack’s attention to turn to him. He smiled and agreed, so long as Mark told about himself in return. Jack got a little into his story when Arin’s rage caused them to migrate to an area where they could hear each other a little better. Jack went on about how he has 2 brothers and 2 sisters, and originally went to college for music technology, but dropped out and later returned for hotel management. He didn’t really know why; it was just something he wanted to do. 

“Your turn,” Jack said, lifting his soda to his lips. They could still see what was happening on the TV, and hear Arin loud and clear, but not too much to impair their conversation. 

Mark explained how he was half Korean and half German, getting most his traits from his father, who died from cancer when Mark was 18. Mark went to college to be an engineer, but soon found that he didn’t want to actually pursue that and, in an attempt to find a way to make some more extra cash, decided to work at a strip club. He intended, in the beginning, to only tend the bar, being as he once was a bartender. As a joke, he learned how to pole dance sometime in college, and learned a little bit more from the same person after he got the job. She recommended that he actually put his moves to work, and that was where he ended up. 

“I actually wanted to be a voice-over artist, but sometimes we don’t always land where we aim,” Mark shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. Jack could agree, remembering his old band. “But, yeah. That’s Mark.”

“Does Mark have a last name?”

“Believe it or not, and a middle name.”

“Whoa.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Mark Edward Fischbach.”

“Fischbach?” Jack repeated, emphasizing the ‘ach’ so it sounded like ‘awk’ with a little more roughness.

“Yes, ‘bach’. Not like the composer, like my last name.”

Jack chuckled before inhaling.

“Sean William McLoughlin.”

“Come again?” Mark didn’t look like he understood. Understandable, being as Jack prefered him to be called, well, Jack.

“Sean William McLoughlin,” Jack once again said his full name, nearly shuddering. He hated his full name.

“So you’re real name’s Sean? Does anybody call you that?”

“Childhood friends and relatives,” he nonchalantly answered, taking a swig of his drink. “I prefer to go by Jack.”

Mark hummed, looking down at his drink. “I see.”

“Yeah.” 

There was another silence before Mark looked up at met his gaze once again. “Can I ask a question?”

Any nervousness that Jack shoved down boiled up again. “Sure.”

“Why’s your hair green? Like, just the top?”

Jack ran a hand through his hair that needed to be redyed. He pursed his lips, deciding to spare Mark the details. “It was a dare. Why? Do you have a problem with it?” 

Mark shook his head, rustling his own floof. “Nah, I was just curious. I was kinda thinking of dying my hair something again, but my job doesn’t permit it.”

“Again?”

Mark smiled. “Yeah, back in college I, too, fell victim of a dare. I had to dye my hair bright pink. Let’s just say, I fell into a phase and dyed it a few more times. Needless to say, picture days were pretty interesting.”

“I’d kill for yearbook photos.”

Mark chuckled. “I dyed it bubblegum pink, blue, a deeper blue, and then red. I stuck with red for a while, but eventually let it fade out. My hair was dying, anyway-- no pun intended-- so I figured I’d go without dyeing it. Plus, I don’t know how strip clubs feel about dyed hair, y’know? It’s a miracle I can keep my hair the way it is.”

“I noticed that you, Arin, and Dan are the only ones with really fluffy hair in the whole joint. Most customers like shaved, or at least half-shaved?”

Mark shrugged, his hands in his hair now. “I guess? People have preferences, so that’s why the boss keeps us around. Some like shaved, some like fluffy.”

“We talking about pubes now?” Ross asked playfully, leaning his arm on Jack’s shoulder. Though being nearly the same height, the motion made Jack feel smol. 

“Yeah, Ross. How do you prefer your pubes?” Jack asked with a laugh, and Ross pretended to be deep in thought. 

“I have to go with fluff, man. Shaven just gives me nightmares. You taking notes, guys?! These guys are asking the important questions!”

Mark and Jack awkwardly laughed as Ross walked back to the couch, saying how they knew what to ask before getting into bed with each other, but neither of them protested. Jack began to wonder if that’s what they were actually doing. 

His eyes flicked into the kitchen, where he caught the gaze of Craig, who seemed to be nearly scowling at him and Mark. It could’ve just been the light, or maybe he needed glasses, but when they met eyes, Craig turned his attention back to making more finger-foods. 

“Well, Jack?” a voice purred against the shell of his ear, so close his breath wafted onto his cheek. “How do _you_ like your pubes?”

“Definitely fluff.”

Mark pulled back and laughed like he wasn’t expecting Jack to answer. “Probably same.”

“Probably? I give you an honest-to-goodness answer and you answer me with a probably? Nuh-uh, man, that’s not how this relationship works.”

Mark leaned in again, making Jack wonder why he even leaned back in the first place. Probably not to blow out his eardrums. He underestimated the metalhead. “Why don’t you help me decide?”

Jack swallowed what he was sure was a glob of what was once pizza, and Mark once again drew back, seeming satisfied with the reaction. He nudged the Irishman slightly, motioning to the table. “You wanna go back and join them, or do you want me to bring snacks over here?”

“What do you wanna do?”

“Keep talking to you,” Mark answered before walking towards the group. Jack quickly downed his drink and scuttled into the kitchen, feeling his blood turn hot. 

Man, fuck that guy. 

Boy did Jack sure want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man school for me starts this upcoming Monday kms  
> but bOI I sure do hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing this ^^


	7. Chapter 7

The party was actually really awesome, despite the lack of loud music, booze, and a crowd. Though, Jack was sure anything was awesome as long as he had Mark to talk to.

He’d nearly forgotten about his other friends, as they hardly made themselves known aside from the occasional snort from Alex or Aaron’s laughter just as disruptive as the man who practically shared his name. Craig stuck in the kitchen alongside Suzy and Holly, however, and he and Jack made eye contact more than three times during the night. Jack was beginning to wonder if Craig was having a bad time. It was possible, as Craig wasn’t normally one to speak up unless he really didn’t like something. 

Jack soon found out why as a familiar hand grabbed his arm. 

“Can we go soon?” Craig voiced in a low tone, as if he didn’t want anybody else to hear. “I just remembered I have something in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, and Craig made his way back to the kitchen. “Hey, uh… Sorry to cut this short, Mark--”

“Short?” Mark teased with a grin. “We’ve been talking for at least two hours. It’s fine if you and your date wanna go.”

Two hours? No way. “Craig’s not my--”

The hand returned. “Ready?”

Jack tried not to huff. “Yeah. See you around, Mark.”

“Sure.”

As they said their goodbyes, Jack could tell Craig looked more uncomfortable with every passing second. Especially so when Jack and Mark hugged, as it was a second longer than a normal embrace. 

Craig practically dragged Jack down to the car, his hand never letting up off his arm. Jack began to wonder why Craig didn’t speak up sooner, but pushed any questions to the back of his mind as he started the car and began to drive home. 

Something was seriously eating away at Craig, but Jack didn’t know what. He contemplated staying over at his house (platonically) to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, but knew Craig wasn’t like that. He hadn’t been like that in years. 

Jack began to doubt the serenity of his friend as he pulled into the driveway. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry if you had a bad time,” Jack said as Craig opened the car door.

“That’s not it. I’m just kinda tired.”

Jack nodded and waited for him to get into his house before reversing and driving home. 

 

When Jack made it into his apartment, his phone buzzed in his hand. Depositing his keys in a bowl near the door, he pulled his phone out his pocket as he kicked off his shoes. Much to his surprise (and mild pleasure), it was Mark.

**Message from: Markle**   
_ > It sucks that you had to go so early. They just pulled out the ice cream._

Jack smiled at the fact that Mark didn’t even introduce himself in the beginning. 

**Message from: Jack**   
_ > Awh, man! You’re not serious D: _

**Message from: Markle**   
_ > You technically could still come back, couldn’t you? I think they’re planning on having a sleepover. _   
_ >> And Brian just arrived! The real party’s finally kicking up and you’re not here. Dammit, man, get your Irish ass back this way._

**Message from: Jack**   
_ > Dammit. I’m tempted. _

Jack really was tempted. Not only could he possibly have a sleepover with _Mark_ , but he could get ice cream, too? Now that’s how you bribe somebody.

**Message from: Markle**   
_ > I told them that you might come back. Don’t make me look like a stupid!_

**Message from: Jack**   
_ > You don’t need me for that (;_

Jack locked his phone and slipped his shoes back on, checking his wallet. He had enough for gas either on the way to, or back.

He settled on getting gas when he came back, grabbed his car keys once again, and heading out for the second time that night.

 

Halfway there, Jack received a text. He couldn’t check it, naturally, but got another a few minutes later. He was three minutes from Dan and Arin (and company)’s apartment when his dash lit up with a phone call. Huffing at the name, he touched the screen and greeted: “Hello, Craig.”

“You’re not home.”

It wasn’t a surprise to hear that Craig was in his house. He, Aaron and Alex had keys to his apartment, much like he had keys to theirs. It was a safety measure, and had started when Craig told them he had once been suicidal. They weren’t planning on losing friends on their watch.

“Yeah, I know this. Why? Did you want late night cuddles?”

“Did you go back to the party?”

Jack felt a pang of guilt in his chest, but pushed it down. So what if he wanted to party with his new friends? Just because Craig wanted to head home didn’t mean Jack had to stay home because of. 

“I’m working on it,” Jack answered honestly, pulling into a parking spot. He held his phone to his face and clicked a button to transfer the call to the device, stepping out of the vehicle and locking it. 

Craig was silent for a bit. “As long as you haven’t been kidnapped.”

“Was that your first thought?”

“Shut up.”

Jack laughed, but Craig hung up before Jack finished it. He rolled his eyes, stuffed his phone in his back pocket, and went up the stairs.

 

For the second time that night, Jack rapped his knuckles on the apartment door. This time, however, Mark opened the door with a fresh rootbeer float. 

“The others have alcohol,” Mark said as he shut the door, Jack taking the long spoon and scooping some in his mouth. “I didn’t know if you wanted to get drunk or not, so I got you a non-alcoholic one, too.”

“You don’t drink?” he asked as he licked the foam off his mustache. Fuck off, that’s not weird.

“Nah. I’ve never really been fond of the stuff, but an incident a year or so back made it so now I have a reason. I had to go to the hospital to remove a blockage in my intestine, and the doctors advised me not to drink anymore. So, I don’t.”

Jack hummed past the spoon, already on a third spoonful while Mark looked at him with amusement. Mark’s looked hardly touched. “That’s awful. I’m glad you survived, though.”

“Me too.”

Mark fumbled with his spoon a bit, stirring the vanilla in with the soda before pulling out a glob that looked like pure foam. Jack, feeling a little bit brave, took his spoon of foam and poked Mark’s nose with it, leaving a white bubbly cloud behind. Mark, pouting slightly, went to do the same to Jack, but missed and streaked his cheekbone. Jack smirked at him, wiping the white cream off his face with his forefinger before attempting (and probably failing) to be seductive and lick it off, showing his tongue to Mark. 

Maybe it did work, as the stripper rolled his lips inward and glanced away for a split second before wiping the froth from the tip of his nose. Jack couldn’t help but think about how he’d love to lick it off for him, but that’d be a little too weird for just a speck, on his nose, no less. Maybe another time. 

It was kinda weird, when Jack thought about it. Mark probably had customers way more attractive than Jack could ever hope of being, so why did his attempt of failed seduction actually pull a rise out of him?

Maybe Jack should just stop thinking and keep eating his float.

Jack shoveled another spoonful into his mouth to keep quiet, the fact that it was nearly midnight and he was eating sugar not registering in his head as he licked his lips to get any foamy residue off. The fact that Mark was staring at him did not go unnoticed, but he focused back on the screen, where Arin and Barry were playing a game Jack didn’t recognize. He caught Mark’s gaze for a split second before Mark looked away and looked at the screen.

“What’re they playing?” he asked the tanner man, who nearly jumped out of his skin before looking back at Jack. 

“I think it’s some NES remix or something. There’s a lot of games in it, too. It’s kinda cool, actually.”

Jack looked at the screen. They seemed to be frustrated about some Kirby game, as Arin was complaining about it taking 30 years. The title above the gameplay read ‘Watch the Demo’, which made Jack realize that they weren’t actually playing at that moment. 

“It looks pretty cool.”

Mark hummed, his eyes fully on the screen now. “I know. It does, doesn't it?” 

Jack noticed the faraway look in his eye and smiled. “Why don’t you go and play?”

For once, Mark actually looked taken aback. “Huh? Oh, n-no, I wouldn’t do that. I’d feel like an outside force, y’know?” Jack kept smiling. He sighed. “I… I did once. It was for a couple Mario games, but… I haven’t played since. I mean, I loved every second of it, but… I dunno. I felt like an outsider.”

Jack placed a hand on his bicep and smiled knowingly. “It’s totally fine, Mark. You guys all seem really close. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind letting you play if you wanted.”

Mark looked back at the screen, and Jack could’ve swore he saw a tint of red behind the glow of the TV screen. “Thanks, Jack.” 

Jack hoped Mark could sense it too. He didn't want to be alone in thinking about how they seem to be meant for each other, no matter how weird that sounded. Yeah maybe it did sound a little crazy, but was it really Jack’s fault? It really did seem like they click in a certain way that made it seem like they were friends for a lot longer than a day. 

Had it really only been a day? They met almost 3 weeks ago, but right then was the only time they really talked, and yet they still seem to click. Jack was really never one to believe in soulmates but... could you blame him in thinking otherwise now?

A pair of hands suddenly slammed down on Jack and Mark’s shoulders, causing them both to jump a bit. They both looked up to the face of a graying man with light stubble and piercing eyes.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend, Mark?” he asked in almost a mocking tone, like he knew exactly what both of them were feeling. 

“Ah, yes. Brian, this is Jack. Jack, Ninja Brian.”

The preview Jack got was enough to assure him that the name wasn’t a joke as he and Brian shook hands. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jack the Second.” The way he smiled made Jack feel slightly uneasy, but he didn’t quite understand why. “I’m sure you know by now that we’ve all heard of you.”

“Ah, yes,” Jack nodded, placing his hand back in his lap. “I’ve been told many times tonight.”

Brian nodded, and walked away without a second word. Jack and Mark watched him go in silence, before Jack looked back at his companion. 

“He seems… cool.”

It was Mark’s turn to nod as he looked back at the TV screen. “Everybody here’s cool.”

Mark’s eyes followed something, and Jack soon found what it was.

“Hey,” Aaron’s sleepy voice said against his ear, making Jack jump. His eyes were on Mark, so he didn’t miss the look of confusion and something else flash across his face. “Alex and I are gonna go home. Stay outta trouble, alright?”

“No promises,” Jack smirked up at him. Aaron chuckled and pat his shoulder before motioning Alex over. Alex gave him a lazy wave before they both went out the door, many other people shouting their goodbyes. 

“Well,” Arin suddenly spoke, standing up, the game paused behind him. “Now that we have the weak ones gone, what do we say we get this party started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to sure about this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated! c:


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm already working on Chapter 10 and I was about to upload Chapter 9 when I realized that I haven't even uploaded this chapter yet XD my bad. 
> 
> I'm sure somebody out there's going to be mad at me for this, though ;3

Everybody seemed to liven up at Arin’s choice of words, but Jack was just left confused. It was almost midnight-- if not past that-- and Arin _just_ wanted to start the party? Was Jack missing something? 

At least Mark looked confused. He pulled out his phone and turned on the screen, his eyes slightly widening. He didn’t say anything though, and slid his phone back in his pocket. 

Barry and Vernon helped push the couches a little back as Dan and Arin took the coffee table and moved it aside, leaving a large space between where the couches used to be and the TV. Dan motioned Mark and Jack, who were sitting away from the couches, over to the space as Suzy, Holly, and Ross made a large makeshift bed with blankets, throw blankets, and pillows. They all situated themselves on it, getting comfy and leaning on the couch for back support. Arin hunched over a drawer, and Suzy reappeared holding a couple of large bowls of popcorn. 

“Now,” Arin once again announced, turning around to reveal four DVD cases. “Who’s ready to be scared?”

 

Jack really loved horror movies, but being snuggled up to a guy-- a stripper, no less-- that made him so nervous he was surprised he hadn’t wet himself yet was the last thing he imagined doing when watching one. The group couldn’t decide on anything, ranging from _Scream 3_ to _The Conjuring 2_ , so they decided just to watch as many as they could until people either chickened out or everybody passed out. Needless to say, Jack was excited; even more so when he found out that Mark liked horror movies, too. Everybody’s eyes were on the screen (except for Ross, who had his face against a pillow while nearly on top of Barry and Dan who was snuggled in a blanket with the covers almost fully over his eyes but he was still technically watching), scarfing down popcorn or Lays or whatever. Ouija was the current movie on, but Jack didn’t find it to be really scary. It had it’s moments, sure, but nothing really was enough to cause him to jump and knock his soda can over. He almost felt bad for Ross. The Australian probably didn’t handle suspense well. 

Kevin, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to throw a fucking party with how excited he was. 

Jack reached down for another handful of popcorn, and found his hand touching something that was not popcorn. He blinked, and looked down at the bowl to find another hand in the same predicament. Jack raised his gaze to look up at Mark, who was staring down at the popcorn bowl with the same confusion. Mark followed Jack’s movements, though, and looked up to meet Jack’s gaze. 

Whatever was happening onscreen was mere background noise to them as they, for no reason, stared at each other, as if daring one another to look away. Though the TV gave off terrible light, especially during a “horror” movie, Jack could see Mark’s golden eyes, and he was sure Mark could see his blue ones. Jack wondered what color they were in that moment. Mark’s lips parted, as though he was going to say something, but no words came out. Jack felt a weird sensation crawling up the palm of his hand, and felt Mark’s hand shift as his thumb cross over Jack’s pinkie. His fingers followed suit, and Jack loosened to allow their hands to intertwine in a gross, greasy handhold, though neither of them seemed to mind. Jack really hoped Mark couldn’t hear his heartbeat, because to Jack it sounded like a herd of wild buffalo was running throughout his body. He was 6000% sure he was going to barf, and was surprised he wasn’t shaking yet.

His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, but the most prominent one was him wondering if Mark was feeling the same way. Jack cursed the poor lighting, but was also thankful that nobody had noticed their staredown yet. Or if they have, just didn’t call it out. 

Mark pulled his lip in and bit it, looking away for a second. Jack couldn’t help but smile, and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. Or what he hoped was friendly. Mark looked back at him the moment he did it, a small look of surprise on his face. Jack offered him another smile, looking once again into his eyes. Mark's eyes were still kinda wide, but his gaze flicked down quickly. Jack took his soda and moved it to the other side of him as he moved his knees closer to the man before him. Mark noticed and grinned, almost giddily, and shifted closer, too. 

Jack could feel Mark's breath on his face. 

With a hopefully inaudible swallow, Jack tentatively pushed his opposite hand against Mark's face, feeling his gaze mimicking what Mark's did just moments ago. There was an excited look in Mark's eyes as their faces grew closer together.

A yelp from Dan caused them both to recoil at the speed of sound, nearly knocking over the popcorn bowl, Jack's soda, and Mark's empty glass of KoolAid. Giving a quick glance around and seeing how nobody saw, they both chuckled awkwardly to themselves before looking back at the screen.

Jack took in a shaky breath, trying to force his heartbeat to a stop. Not entirely, of course, but enough to stop being a distraction. His hand was sweating, and he could practically feel Mark's disgust. Part of him wished the floor would come up and devour him, but the other part wished this would never end. 

Actually, he really wished he could wipe his hand on his jeans and go back to holding hands.

With Mark.

...

Jack could taste the handful of Doritos going against the flow, and took another drink of his soda.

He finally got his heartbeat to a normal level, and tried to tune back into the movie. They were in a mental hospital, with the old lady from _Insidious_ , getting told about who the ghost was or whatever the fuck was happening. Jack didn't know and didn't want to ask.

Just as Jack was finally comfortable and his hand stopped sweating profusely, Mark gave Jack's hand a squeeze back. 

He was seriously going to hurl.

 

Okay, that was lame,” Arin sighed as the credits began to roll. Jack was happy somebody else thought so too. “Take this moment to get a drink, take a shower, shit on somebody's lawn; do whatever. We won't start till everybody's back.”

Jack quickly downed the rest of his soda and almost began to stand up before he felt a hard grip on his hand. He looked at Mark, who motioned to the kitchen as he unfolded their hands. Jack had no objections as he was planning on going there anyway. 

Jack followed Mark into the space, almost making a straight beeline to the fridge for another drink, tossing the soda can in the trash as he went. What surprised him, however, was a hand on his shoulder before he was pushed against the counter.

Confused and with a hurting tailbone, he glanced up to meet the gaze of Mark Fischbach, who looked just as shocked as he.

“Uh, Mark--” 

His sentence had no chance of finishing with anything above a muffled grunt as Mark's lips crashed against his own and fireworks exploded behind his eyelids. The sudden action caused his body to become rigid against the counter, accidentally arching into Mark’s chest as his hands came up to grab at his shoulders. This had to be a crazy wet dream, because there was no way in Heaven or Earth that Mark Fischbach, the stripper he thought he had no chance with, was kissing him. 

Nope. No way. Jack wouldn’t let himself believe it as true. There was absolutely no way.

A firm grasp on his ass brought him back to reality as a soft groan forced itself from Jack’s chest. Mark didn’t seem to mind, instead huffing in response and driving their groins together. Jack could’ve swore he heard the distant sound of the fridge door opening, but was too busy trying not to lose his stomach’s contents all over Mark.

The same Mark he first saw in a club nearly a month ago, who danced on a pole and probably got laid more times in a week than Jack has in his life. Mark, who was extremely hot and had really fluffy black hair and the most beautiful brown eyes. Mark, who could’ve chose anybody that avidly went to the club just to see him but chose an emo dork with holes in his ears and ripped jeans and stained band tees.

Mark, who was currently making out with Jack.

Jack wrapped his arms around Mark and buried his hands in his hair, tugging slightly as Mark placed his hands on the sides of Jack’s face to deepen the kiss like Jack was his oxygen and he was running out of air. 

A groan from Mark caused Jack to grind his hips against the exotic dancer, tugging on his dark locks with fervor. Had badly had Jack wanted this? 

How badly did _Mark_ want this?

Jack's hands fell from his hair and allowed his fingers to dance under Mark's flannel, feeling what bit of skin he could before the tension in the shirt got too much for him to worm his digits under. 

Mark made life easier by breaking the kiss, panting heavily against Jack's neck as he pulled Mark's flannel apart by the buttons, starting on the bottom. Part of him just wanted to literally rip it off him, but he didn’t want to ruin the flannel. That’d be kinda rude, don’t you think?

“Jack, wait--”

Instantly, Jack’s motions stopped, eyes flicking up to meet Mark’s. It was understandable why Mark began to protest, and Jack could tell Mark wasn’t used to being fondled in front of his closest friends. Not like any would mind, but he didn’t want to give Mark a bad reason to end their mini session. 

“Not here.”

‘Where, then?’ Jack almost barked, but stopped himself, his hands grabbing the sides of Mark’s shirt. He was almost halfway done unbuttoning it, revealing the forming sixpack he’d seen so much. 

Fuck.

As Jack began to silently rebutton the fabric, Mark grabbed his forearm and looked into his eyes. Jack saw those caramel orbs and pressed his lips against Mark’s once more.

Mark leaned back into the kiss, his grip on Jack’s arm tightening slightly before releasing and pulling away. This caused Jack’s hands to let go of the folds of his shirt, and Mark continued the motion himself. Jack was about to push himself over to the fridge once again when Mark grabbed him, kissing him once again. When they parted, he looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how. 

“What’s up?” Jack was surprised at how strong his voice was, rather than shaky and nervous. Like how he was actually feeling.

Mark sighed, scratching his cheek. “I know this might be weird coming from… somebody like me, but… if you’re dating someone, I don’t want to… y’know.” 

Jack’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slack. “Wh-What? You think I’m dating Craig?”

Mark bit his lip and looked away. “Yeah? I mean, I guess? When we first met, he seemed really… protective and territorial over you.”

Jack knew full well of how it seemed, and hoped Mark didn’t get the wrong impression. As it turned out, he did. “We’re not dating. I don’t even think he likes me.”

“He could.” Jack could feel Mark beginning to back off, and involuntarily reached out to touch his arm. “He’s known you for longer than I have; I don’t want want to--”

“Mark, stop for a second.”

It worked, but Mark didn’t look at him.

“If Craig liked me, he would’ve told me by now. Relax, okay?” Pushing the rising thought of Craig trying to kiss him that one time to the back of his mind, he flashed Mark a convincing smile. 

Mark took in a breath and finally looked Jack in the eyes. “Okay. Okay, if you say so, then… I’ll believe you. I’ve had my fair share of guys cheating on their lovers, and it never feels good to be a homewrecker.”

Jack nodded. “You have no reason to worry about me, Mark. If I was dating somebody, I wouldn’t have even went with my friends to the club that day.”

Relief instantly flooded Mark’s countenance, and he visibly relaxed. “That’s good to hear. At least _some_ people have morals.”

“I could say the same for you. Not everybody with your profession is as considerate of other people’s love lives as you are.”

Mark chuckled and looked away, but Jack didn’t miss the blush that crept onto his face. “I just don’t want to get attacked one day from an angry boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Girls can be pretty scary, too.”

“That reminds me,” Jack said suddenly, keeping Mark’s attention as he finally grabbed another soda from the fridge. “I guess I kinda have an answer now, but I want to know if you’re bisexual, pansexual, or straight-up gay.”

Mark faltered at the question, and shifted awkwardly. “I-I’m pansexual, I guess? Or, maybe bi? Fuck, I dunno. I just know I like ass; whether it’s man ass or wu-man ass doesn’t concern me.”

Jack snorted at the way Mark pronounced woman. “So yeah, you’re pan. Have you fucked any girls or do you find them attractive?” 

“Uh… both?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How about you, Sir Asks-A-Lot?”

Jack made a face and leaned against the counter top again. “To be honest, I really didn’t know. I thought I was bi, but after walking into that club however many weeks ago it was, I think I’m pan, too.”

“How shocking. Gotten any action with either gender recently?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“Well, I asked you first.”

“Oh, whatever,” Jack laughed, and Mark grinned. “To answer your question, there was this one girl I did have a thing with, but she started getting the hots for somebody else. Turns out she was bi, so there was that. So what about you, now?”

Mark was about to answer the question, but Dan poking his head in caused him to stop.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to start the next movie.”

“Cool. What is it?” The way Mark lightened up at Dan’s presence didn’t go unnoticed by the Irishman beside him.

Arin’s head appeared next, saving Dan from answering with a sadistic grin. “ _Lights Out_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually went to see Lights Out in theaters after I wrote this! Pretty good movie. Had it's moments, that's f'sure.   
> The box was the scariest for me XD  
> Don't be shy; feedback is welcome, as always!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There I go again, rushing to get a chapter finished when I have, like, three already made.

Jack woke up the next morning to pale light, a black TV, and the warmth of another person snuggled next to him. He was laying on his side, with the grip of a larger man wrapped around his waist and the back of his head nestled against somebody’s chest and halfway on a pillow. Seems like the man was way more comfy that the tangible cloud below him. 

With a soft grunt, he lifted his head and looked around. Dan and Suzy were both cuddling against Arin, who looked like a pimp with the practically attached to his sides with Barry and Ross were nearly inside each other with the way they were hugging in their sleep. Brian wasn’t anywhere to be found, which caused another question to arise. Jack hadn’t seen Brian since Mark introduced them, which was mildly concerning. Did he show up, and then just leave? That was kinda weird, but maybe he was a busy man. 

He was kinda old.

Holly, Brent, Vernon, other Jack, and Kevin were basically sleeping in the middle of everybody else, close to where the coffee table usually would be and not snuggling anybody. Jack’s neck was starting to hurt with the strain and let his head fall back on the half-Mark, half-pillow he’d been resting on.

Which reminded him that Mark literally had his arms wrapped around his waist, holding him in place. 

In which was against _his_ waist.

oH fuCk.

Jack could feel loads of shit happening with his mind and lower regions of his body as Mark groaned softly and pulled Jack closer, snuggling his nose deep into Jack’s green fluff. 

Now was not the time to get a boner, Jack.

Mark’s legs did a weird thing where they, like, kinda rubbed together a little bit? Whatever happened, it caused Mark’s hips to hit Jack’s backside again, and Mark once again brought Jack closer to him, inhaling before breathing out: “Jack…”

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Jack evaluated his options: either he worm his way out of Mark’s grasp to go and smash his dick in with a door so he could stop getting aroused in this position where if Mark’s hands moved down a few inches he would literally _feel_ Jack’s erect junk, or sit and wait for Mark to wake up, which could take a while and at any point _Mark’s hands could go down and he could feel Jack’s erect junk._

Fuck that.

Jack carefully pried Mark’s grip away from him, which was easy to do after Mark stopped flexing against him ( **JackwasprettysurehecouldfeelMarkgettingmorningwoodokaybye** ) and unrolled himself from the throw blanket they were burritoed into, making sure not to make too much of a ruckus or kick somebody in the face. He awkwardly tucked Mark back into the blanket, fitting the pillow between his arms to make it seem like Jack was still there, and went into the kitchen for…

Why would his first stop be the kitchen? It’s not like he could just raid the fridge like he could back home. Maybe he could find a notepad and write a note that he went back home so he could get some of his breakfast pizza (the thought of Aaron owing him a pizza from Domino’s for going to the club this most recent time came to his mind before he shooed it away), but he decided against it and wished he’d stayed with Mark.

Then he remembered his _problem_ and went towards the bathroom instead to take a piss.

Nothing else.

Stop it.

With a shaky breath, Jack looked at himself in the mirror. Disheveled, exhausted, and gross. 

That’s Jack.

Shaking his head, he took care of his business and washed his hands, sighing as he shut off the water and leaned on the sink, staring into the reflection. His square-ish face shape and brown stubble, thin lips and bushy brows, sleep-destroyed hair and deep blue eyes looked back at him, almost mockingly. 

That’s Jack.

Closing his eyes and looking down, he made a face at the clean sink below him before shoving off it and opening the bathroom door, nearly running into somebody. He stepped back with a surprised gasp, and the person almost did the same.

“Oh, sorry!” he hissed under his breath as he scuttled past Barry, who gave him a dismissive yawn as he walked into the room and shut the door behind him. He ran his fingers through the patch of color on his head and continued towards the living room, feeling for his phone in his back pocket. It wasn’t there, in which he was mostly thankful for. At least he didn’t crush it during the night. Once he was sure his hair looked somewhat decent (he always thought he looked better when it was slightly messy and not freshly brushed. Had a more natural look to it), he let his hand fall to his side before reaching down and sifting through the bags of chips in search for his device. 

Once he found it, he turned on the screen to see his phone at a lucky 43% and with only a couple of missed calls and assorted texts, mainly from Craig saying ‘don’t die’, ‘don’t get into too much trouble’, and ‘have a good night’. The others were from Aaron: ‘have a good night’, ‘text him in the morning’, and ‘use protection’.

Classic.

Rolling his eyes, Jack sat down on the couch, his feet brought up to the armrest so he didn’t accidentally kick Mark in the shin, and typed up a reply to Aaron. He only told him that they watched horror films and that was it after he and Alex left. He didn’t bother messaging Craig because he had nothing to say. He really had nothing to do on his phone rather than search through Twitter (which reminded him to get the handles of everybody there so he could follow them), so he locked the electronic and rested his head on one of the throw pillows. He clicked the lock button once more to look at the time, and again to turn off the screen. It was 8:39, probably the earliest he’d ever woken up unless he had something to do in the morning, and he had absolutely nothing to do until everybody else woke up.

Who knew when that’d be.

“Early riser?” Barry asked softly, cautiously sitting next to him. Jack rubbed his nose with a soft exhale.

“Not normally,” Jack replied in a soft tone, which seemed to take even Barry off guard. Was Jack really that loud? “I just don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep again. Once I get outta bed, it’s kinda hard for me to pass out again.”

Being as Jack rarely slept at _all_ most nights, with gaming all the time and whatnot, he could usually sleep for long periods, and often found it hard to get up and stay up unless he made a trek down to his kitchen for a cup of coffee. As it goes: that in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an outside force.

That outside force usually being videogames. 

Barry hummed, nodding and looking at the TV, as if contemplating turning it on despite over half the people still resting. “I believe it, with you being so energetic and everything.”

“Yeah. Sorry if that was kinda annoying.”

“It wasn’t. I think it was a nice change of pace around here. Usually it’s Arin that’s the loud one. It was nice to have somebody finally top his tone.”

Jack found himself smiling and looked at the TV, finding nothing better to do. Mark shifted, picked up his head, and then leaned on one of his shoulders, as if in confusion.

“Good morning.”

Jack bit back a snicker as Mark jumped and looked back at them. His almost panicked gaze flicked to Jack before throwing the pillow Jack gave him at Barry.

“That’s rude, dude. I take it back. Fuck-you morning.”

Mark crawled onto the couch like a beached whale, even making a noise similar to that of some sort of unknown creature before flopping properly on the cushion, adjusting the blanket he had still wrapped around his legs so it covered most his torso, too. “It’s not nice to scare the living shit out of somebody who just woke up, either. Jerk.”

“How’d you sleep?” Jack asked, though he knew it was good, judging by his antics, like, ten minutes ago.

“Decent enough,” he answered, pressing the tips of his fingers to the corners of his eyes. Guess Jack wasn’t a good cuddle-buddy like he thought he was. “You?”

“Decent enough.”

Mark huffed and looked at Barry. “How about you?”

“Surprised I could even feel my dick this morning by the way Ross was kneeing me every minute.”

“Hey, asshole, be lucky you even got to cuddle with me you fucking jerkfuck.” Speak of the devil.

“And there he is now. How was your sleep, _gorgeous_?”

The three of them could practically see Ross’s attitude. He probably wasn’t a morning person, judging by the way his blond hair stuck out in weird angles and how pissed off he looked with the blanket wrapped around him and a pillow in his hands. 

He threw said pillow at Barry before falling on the man, nearly missing the couch with his bottom half if it wasn’t for the momentum swinging him onto it, however that worked. Barry let out an ‘umph!’ but said nothing as Ross let out a loud groan into the pillow and snuggled against him. 

“Fuck off, you stupid fucking… fucktard… fuck.”

Barry chuckled and ran his fingers through Ross’s hair. “Yeah, good morning to you too.”

Jack and Mark looked at each other before chortling to themselves and looking at the blank screen. 

“Do you think they’ll get mad if we turn it on?” Mark asked what Jack was thinking.

“Arin’s a heavy sleeper, but I think Dan and Kevin might wake up if you do that. You probably don’t want to see Kevin when he first wakes up. He’s almost as bad as Ross.” The comment from Barry earned a punch in the ribs, but it only caused the raven-haired to roll his eyes and continue to mess with Ross’s locks.

“In case you couldn't tell,” Mark began with a soft chuckle, “Ross isn't really a morning person.”

They both laughed as Ross raised a hand and flipped them off. 

“That’s alright, Ross,” Jack assured, patting the man on the shoulder blade. “I’m not, either.”

“Don’t lie to me,” was the muffled response. “You were up before anybody else.”

“Doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.”

“He’s got a point,” Mark added, earning a muffled yell from Ross. 

“I feel so fucking attacked right now guys; can you not? I’m too tired for this shit.” Barry chuckled as Ross groaned deeply again. 

“Go back to bed, then,” Barry offered, and Ross hit the couch. 

“I’m trying, but you guys won’t _shut up_.”

“You’re talking to me here, Ross,” Jack joked, earning a grin from Mark. “I don’t just shut up.”

Ross groaned once more before he lifted himself off Barry, rolling over so he could see the ceiling instead of Barry’s legs. Silence fell over the group once again, Mark on his phone, Barry playing with Ross’s hair as the Australian tried to sleep, and Jack staring at the dark TV screen. 

“I’m bored,” Jack stated, and Mark snorted beside him.

“Maybe we should just wake everybody else up so we can watch TV.”

“I was actually thinking of heading home,” Jack announced, scratching his arm. He didn’t miss the look Mark gave him, though.

“‘Kay, bye,” Ross grumbled, and Jack pushed his tailbone against the couch, getting comfy.

“I didn’t mean right now, you arse.” Mark and Barry chuckled, filling Jack with pride. He was funny! 

“Whatever man, just… bye.”

“I didn’t know you hated me,” Jack playfully wailed softly, and Mark put a comforting hand on his arm. 

“Ross hates everybody,” Mark informed playfully, smirking at Ross’s head. “It’s just fact.”

“Only in the mornings,” Barry corrected, and the other two men laughed. 

“Seriously, though,” Jack hummed as he looked at his phone. “I should be going.”

“Not even going to say goodbye to anybody?”

Jack shrugged as he got off the couch. “Will they hate me?”

“They might be upset.”

“I’ll see you, Dan, and Arin at the club later, though, won’t I?”

“Yeah, but when will you see Kevin, or Jack, or Suzy again?”

“I’m sure this won’t be the last time,” Jack sat back down to force his shoe on, repeating the process for the other foot.

“I’ll tell them you said bye,” Barry offered, the man laying on him silent. Probably asleep again.

“Thanks.”

As Jack began towards the door, Mark stood up, ditching the blanket after nearly falling on his face. “Hey, I’ll text you later, alright?”

“Sounds good.” They hugged one more time before Jack opened the door to the apartment and began on his way home.

 

When Jack got home, he found a note on his fridge from Craig. Why he didn’t just text, Jack didn’t know or care, taking the note down and reading it as he began to make some coffee.

 _There’s a fresh pizza in the fridge (probably cold by the time you read this)._  
Text me when you get home,  
Craig 

Jack crumpled the paper and tossed it into his wastebin, opening his fridge and peeking in to find a pizza box from Domino’s. When he opened it, he nearly started crying at the whole pizza that he spotted, mouth instantly starting to water. He grabbed a slice and bit into it, teeth contacting with the cold sauce but he didn’t care. Pizza was pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t put so many new paragraphs just to make the chapters seem longer. I do it when I feel like it’s a new tone, like sarcastic, playful, awkward, or even serious. 
> 
> Rarely.
> 
> Anyway, I didn’t want people getting weird ideas with that so there you go!
> 
> This chapter was kinda hard for me to write for some reason. Sorry if it kinda seems a little weird :b I’ll redeem myself next chapter.
> 
> Hopefully.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so happy with how many people are enjoying this.  
> Thank you guys for being so awesome and here we go.

Jack felt oddly… hollow.

The past coupla days had been eventful, so to resume his life, sitting hunched over his computer, gaming away with a slice of pizza beside him and his phone on vibrate next to it, made him feel really fat. Which he wasn’t; he was quite fit for his diet and hobbies. Surprisingly. Somehow. He didn’t know; the only exercise he got was going downstairs to get more pizza, and even then the slices he ate for nearly every meal, every day should’ve made him fatter than Fat Albert, but here he was, looking like he worked out every morning. Maybe he should start; all this pizza was going to come back and bite him in the ass one day. 

He took another bite at a loading screen, wiping his hands on a napkin before taking hold of his mouse again, ready to start again. As he moved around the map, he let his mind wander, not really focusing on the game but not doing terribly, either. He wondered what his friends were up to; Mark, Dan, Arin, Aaron, Alex…

Craig.

Thinking about all the people he knew, and not hanging out nor texting them made him feel significantly lonely. He decided he’d at least try and start a conversation with somebody, even if it didn’t go anywhere. At least he tried.

… Maybe after this round. 

_Vrrrr_.

…

Or not.

Jack paused the game and grabbed his phone, looking at the lockscreen to see what caused the disruption to occur. To his surprise, it was Mark.

**Message from: Mark**  
_ >Hey, wanna come over today? I'll send you my address._

**Message to: Mark**  
_ >Sure._

Jack saved and clicked off his game, his heart beating faster than usual. Going over to Mark’s house? What would this entail? Isn’t there some type of rule about not going over to a stripper’s home? 

Hell if Jack knew. 

If there was a world record for getting ready, Jack would’ve beaten it as he vaulted over his car hood and ripped the door open, nearly breaking his ribs on the shift as he threw himself in. He hardly had time to even activate his GPS as he turned the car on, and started driving, gravity slamming his door for him. He was a little surprised that no cops pulled him over for speeding; it took him ten minutes to get there when he was sure it’d take at least fifteen.

Even Mark was surprised when Jack just about heaved his weight against it, trying to knock before he was even at the door. 

“Don’t knock yourself out there,” Mark snickered as Jack walked in, catching the pun like an allstar. 

“I _wood_ try and come up with a joke to match that, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Jack, c’mon, door puns are so easy to _handle_.”

“I dunno; I can’t seem to get a _lock_ on ‘em.”

They stood there laughing at each other’s jokes for a moment while Mark shut the door. “So, now that you’re here, what do you wanna do?”

Jack honestly didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he came barging into Mark’s house like a madman. “Well, I mean, uh…”

Mark laughed and placed a hand on his bicep. “I have video games.”

“FUck yes.”

Mark chuckled. “Don’t game enough?”

“Not nearly, dude. Work and all…” Jack dismissed it as he followed Mark up his stairs. 

“I feel that. Where do you work?”

“Gamestop.” Like it was the most generic thing in the world. Well, it was compared to being a stripper but hey.

“Oh, nice. Is it fun?”

“It helps me pay rent, so I’ll take it.”

Mark laughed again. Jack was actually surprised he hadn’t pissed himself of nervousness yet, but maybe that was because he and Mark had talked for a while, so he wasn’t just some hot-ass stripper with a hot ass. “I feel it, dude. So what did you want to play?”

“Whatcha got?”

Mark smiled. “A lot.”

 

They eventually settled on _Destiny_ until they realized how hungry they really were. Mark insisted that he cook food, so Jack was currently sitting on a barstool, making conversation with Mark about Lord knows what.

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned a girlfriend, right?” Jack brought up, and Mark hummed. “What ever happened to that?”

“She had been talking to this one girl for a while, and after a while, the girl broke up with her boyfriend so they got together a little later.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Really? My girlfriend left me for a girl, too, who’d been interested in some guy.”

Mark looked back at Jack. “What was her name?”

“Signe?”

He nearly dropped his utensil. “No fucking way. The name ‘Amy’ ring any bells?”

“Holy shit.”

“What the fuck.”

There was a few moments of silence as they let it sink in. “So… my girlfriend left me…”

“For _my_ girlfriend?”

Another silence before Jack let out his breath. “That’s fucking bonkers, man.”

Mark shoveled a forkful into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I didn’t think that she was _your_ girlfriend. This changes… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jack laughed as he stabbed a piece of meat.

“I originally thought it was something I did, maybe I was just such a bad boyfriend that she decided maybe she liked girls. Just a little paranoia that was really stupid.” He chuckled before continuing, “She told me she’d been talking to this chick for a while, and that she already broke up with her boyfriend about a week before they decided to actually date.”

“Yeah, I feel it,” Jack agreed, placing his fork down. “Signe told me roughly the same thing, except that she really wanted to try things out with this other girl. I didn’t mind; I actually supported it. But to hear that she wanted to date your girlfriend is just… it’s mind blowing.”

Mark grinned. “Yeah.” He stretched, and picked up their empty plates. “Want anything to drink?”

“Water’s good, thanks.” Jack stood as Mark motioned to the fridge, and Jack reached in for a bottle. Mark put the plates in the sink and ran the water on them for a second before shutting it off and wiping his hands on a washcloth. He reached around Jack, grabbing his own bottle before shutting the fridge and heading up the stairs, Jack on his heels. 

“So, back to _Destiny_?”

“I guess,” Mark chuckled as he sat on the couch in his gaming room, Jack flopping down next to him. The remotes were on the coffee table between the TV and the couch, but neither reached for it. Mark shifted, and Jack looked at him right as Mark shoved towards him, crashing their lips together. The action took Jack off guard, knocking him slightly backwards against the arm of the couch as Mark topped him easily, holding the sides of his face to deepen the kiss. Their lips moved together in perfect sync, Jack groaning as Mark shoved his tongue down the Irishman’s throat. Jack’s hand grabbed at Mark’s hips, grinding them together fervently. Mark pulled away from the kiss with a raspy pant, pressing his groin against Jack’s as he straightened up and lifted his shirt above his head, which was seriously attractive, especially with Mark’s toned body. He resisted the urge to drool as he flung his shirt somewhere and kissed Jack again, pressing his chest into Jack’s shirt. The fabric was probably uncomfortable against the tanner man’s nips, so Jack lightly pushed him off and reached for his hem.

However, Mark was a step ahead and pulled at the shirt himself, lifting Jack’s body slightly to tug the shirt all the way off. Jack fell back against the couch as Mark was clearly enjoying the view. Jack ran a hand down his own chest with a playfully seductive look.

“You like what you see?” he sang, and Mark rolled his eyes.

“Hell yes.” Mark dropped on him again and pressed his lips to his neck, grazing his teeth against his skin. Jack felt his blood spike and a gasp escaped him, his hands running up and down Mark’s back before gripping his ass and pressing their hips together again. Jack let out a stuttered breath as Mark began to grind against him, taking full control of the situation. Not like Jack minded; he didn’t care if he was topped, as long as he was topped by Mark. Mark leaned up a little, breaking the kiss to look down at his hands, which were fumbling with Jack’s fly. Jack couldn’t help but laugh and help him out, sliding out of his jeans as Mark did the same with his own pants. Soon they were just in their boxers, taking a second to stare and assess the situation. 

Two men in their boxers laying on a couch together, both sporting hugeass boners. One stripper, one cashier at Gamestop. 

Who knew that this is where Jack’s life would lead up to? 

Mark passed Jack a very, _very_ suggestive grin. “Now, why don’t we get down to business?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I may have lied about having extra chapters oops~~
> 
>  
> 
> I’m super pumped to write the next chapters! You guys are going to be vERY upset once you read one of them, but it’s going to happen! The Fates already decided it! >:D  
> (I have to give credit to this one comment I saw on Instagram, though, for the idea for having Singe and Amy dating ;3 so, kudos to them, wherever they are~!)
> 
> ~~I might skip out on the smutty-smut; let’s see where it leads, huh?~~
> 
>  
> 
> ~~  
> _Too Lazy To Love _is beginning to shine through oh god help us all__  
>  ~~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
> __  
> ~~SO MUCH SIN HOLY FUCK~~  
>   
>   
> 
> So, yes, this chapter is NSFW. Kinda. Not really. Just a little sucky-suck on some dicky-dick, but that's fine. We're all used to that.

Jack didn’t know how his life led up to the moment where he was lying on a stripper’s couch completely naked with a man between his legs, but he was enjoying it. It was probably the fact that Mark had a lot of practice (being a stripper, you’d assume he’d at least sucked _some_ dick), because _hot damn_ could that man suck. Jack wasn’t even sure how he’d even lasted longer than five seconds of Mark’s lips wrapped around his pulsating member; he had so much skill that it almost seemed like Mark was going to town on a popsicle. 

A fleshy popsicle, but a popsicle nonetheless. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, Jack tried not to focus on the feeling of Mark’s soft, moist tongue running up and down the underside of his length, cheeks hollow to stimulate further. Jack hadn’t gotten any words out, but he was sure he sounded like Harambe had possessed him with all the pants and grunts that forced themselves past his lips. He didn't often receive blowjobs, but he knew they were _never_ this good. His toes curled as Mark bobbed his head, sending waves of pleasure through Jack’s spine and into his loins, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel his orgasm bubbling up; part of him wanted Mark to stop, so he didn’t flush his throat with white, slimey grossness, but he also wanted to make Mark swallow every bit of it like the whore he was.

Or… stripper. Whatever.

“F-Fuck, Mark…” Jack drawled, hands fisting Mark’s black mop of hair. He was tied between keeping his head down, or pulling it up. Either way it’d be hot, but Jack had no time to decide. Especially because after he spoke, Mark hummed around his cock. 

Why the fuck. Would he do that.

Jack’s hands pulled harshly on black locks, his breath catching in his throat momentarily as he shot his climax deep into Mark’s throat. He at least expected Mark to stutter, to end up choking and sputtering Jack’s seed everywhere, but no; he swallowed like a motherfucking pro. Not like Jack had time to appreciate this, as all his senses were dulled by his spectacular finish, leaving him weak and oddly exhausted.

“Holy fuck,” Jack mumbled as Mark lifted off his dick, wiping his chin with a smirk. The American crawled forward onto Jack’s chest, towering over him dominantly. “I don’t have to pay you, do I?”

Mark’s eyes slightly widened at the question before he started laughing. “No, of course not! That’d ruin the entire moment.”

Jack smiled lazily at him and started chuckling. “I think I may pay you anyway because _hot damn_ that was probably the best blowjob I’ve ever received.”

Mark seemed bashful, and leaned back slightly. Jack could feel his arousement already bubbling again as Mark began to grind his groin against Jack’s. Still in his boxers, the fabric made a weird type of friction that Jack started to enjoy. “I’m glad you thought so. A-and don’t worry about anything; you’re the only guy I’ve blown.”

Jack’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What the fuc-- you’re _kidding_.”

“No…” Mark was blushing now, still grinding against him. “I’ve never really given anybody… special treatment. Most people I work with go nuts for cash: blowjobs, handjobs, buttjobs; the whole works. I’ve just… never been for that, y’know?”

Jack smiled at the sincerity, but disbelief clouded his mind. How could somebody be that good at blowing somebody without any practice? Mark was grinning shyly down at him, clearly uncertain in his actions, but not slowing down. Jack never really tried to attempt multiple orgasms, one directly after the other, but it was never too late to try.

Mark leaned down and pressed his lips against Jack’s neck, opening his mouth around the flesh and biting softly. Jack’s neck was really sensitive, so the small action caused him to flinch as shivers crept down his spine. A small gasp escaped him as Mark continued to nibble his neck before switching sides. Jack gripped Mark’s hips, pushing their hips together more. The friction was--

_Some-BODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME_

They both stopped as a cheesy ringtone began blaring from the coffee table. Both of them looked down at the same time at Mark’s vibrating phone, disruptive and annoying considering the situation. Mark ended up turning his nose away from it and taking Jack’s face between his hands, pressing their lips together harshly as he continued to rub their groins together. It was a little hard to get back in momentum with what sounded like an Arin and Danny cover of Smash Mouth, but the song finally ended, leaving them with nothing but their own pants filling the room. Mark bit Jack’s lip, causing the other to arch with a raspy exhale as Mark tugged his flesh slightly, releasing his hold and going back down for another kiss.

_I AIN’T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHE-EDD_

“Oh for fuck’s sakes,” Mark growled as he heaved himself at his phone, nearly missing and falling off the couch. Jack laughed as Mark grabbed the phone and, indeed, rolled off the couch. “Hello?”

Jack sat up and looked around, already knowing what was going to happen. Needless to say, one orgasm was enough for today. He picked up his boxer-briefs and wormed them on as Mark continued to talk to whoever was on the phone. He sent an apologetic look at Jack, who just waved him off as he stood to retrieve his shirt, deciding to leave his jeans off for now. It was a bit later when Mark finally hung up and sighed, falling back on the couch. “Somethin’ up?” Jack asked as he itched his shin. Mark placed his hands on his face and let out a muffled scream.

“Nah, I’m good,” he decided and flopped forward, rubbing his eyes. “It was just somebody from work being a little bitch. They thought I was coming in today so they slept in, and got all prissy when the boss called them in for work.”

Jack nodded and leaned back, scratching idly at his cheek. Mark placed a hand on Jack’s chest and shoved him back, making him hit the arm of the couch. Alarmed, Jack let himself go limp, and even more confusion rose as Mark sprawled between his legs, head on his chest. Jack chuckled and wrapped his arms around the American’s waist.

“So are you, Arin, and Danny the most popular?” The question had been on Jack’s mind for a while, and felt weird coming out finally. It was almost like it met dead air, when Mark suddenly laughed.

“Oh, no,” Mark scoffed, patting his chest playfully. “The most popular is some kid named Caesar. He's pretty good at what he does, and makes some serious cash.”

Jack felt his blood run cold, his heart stop, and his lungs fail to function. “C-Caesar?”

“Yeah,” Mark continued, running a hand down Jack’s chest. Then he got a weird look in his eye. “He… said something funny the other day, but…”

“‘But’...?” Jack could feel all sorts of bad bubbling inside of him as he looked down at the man laying on him. 

“It’s fine. I thought he was talking about you, but then he motioned to some other guy.”

“W-What makes you think he was talking about me?” Jack was sure his heart was about to explode.

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’d sometimes stare at you, and one day he came up to me and said all menacingly, ‘You know I called dibs on him first, right?’ Now this was after I’d been staring at you nearly all day, so I naturally thought that he meant you. But when I asked, he pointed to a guy I’d served and he, y’know, did his thing: slapped my ass, kissed my hand, mentally raped me; the normal.” He waved his hand dismissively, but if he kept talking, Jack didn’t hear him. Caesar worked at the strip club, and was actually there the same night Jack was at one point? How had Jack not seen him?

“...mildly concerned, but it’s all good now.”

Jack nodded absently, mind reeling with this new information. At one point, Mark offered for them to get back to games, in which Jack apparently accepted, because next thing he knew, he was holding a controller beating the living shit out of zombies that threatened to take his virtual life.

~

Jack wouldn’t say he was ever over Caesar, despite the fact they haven’t talked for three years. Out of sight, out of mind, but not out of heart, right?

Nevertheless, Jack still found himself the ever-nervous bee as he sat in a lounge chair surrounded by blasting music, flashing lights, and men failing to be seductive. At one point he thought he saw Dan, but he didn’t see the same guy again, so he wasn’t sure. Besides, if Mark was off, wouldn’t that mean Dan and Arin were, too? 

Jack found his mind bouncing almost as crazy as his jittery leg, putting in no effort to stop it from doing its thing. A strobe light for anxiety, if Jack ever saw one. He started thinking about how easy it would be to get murdered in a place like this: the dim lights and loud music would make is so nobody suspected a thing until somebody tripped over the body. 

So caught up in his thoughts, Jack hardly noticed the firm hand on his shoulder or the figure sliding over the arm of the chair, shifting slightly in an almost seductive manner. He probably would’ve ignored it for a while longer if it weren’t for the sultry voice that spoke in his ear and sent off thousands of red lights in his brain.

“Hey, handsome~.”

Jack pulled himself from his thoughts and looked up into the emerald eyes of Caesar DeWitt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #DICKSOUTFORHARAMBE
> 
> I know, I know; the 'NSFW' part was hardly anything, but I'm still trying to work up the courage to actually write about dicks going into butts; I've never been particularly good at that, so bear with me a bit, yo. 
> 
> Also drAMA. What’ll it mean for the rest of the story-- hmmMMMMmmmmmm……................................................
> 
> Sorry if it seemed kinda rushed in the end; life kinda flashes by quickly when you’re thinking about how fucked you are knowing the ex you still love is in town oops. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed <3
> 
>  
> 
> ~~yes caesar's last name is dewitt fite me yaosudafjg~~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE! THIS STORY LIVES!!
> 
> Super sorry for taking so long to upload; I’m also running out of juice for this story, especially with school and whatnot. Again, I’m sorry for the lack of uploads, but I hope you enjoy~ =c
> 
> But we learn that this Caesar kid is thirsty af, and that Jack has some _serious_ jealousy issues ._.

C’mon, hun, you’re gonna dislocate your leg doing that!”

Jack almost didn’t recognize those as words; he was so far in awe that he was sure he looked like a child learning about Santa Claus. This, however, just made the man sitting next to him laugh and swipe a finger under his chin. 

“Awh, Jack, is that how you greet everybody? It’s a good look on you; you should definitely use it more often,” Caesar winked, sliding onto Jack’s lap casually. Jack was still in shock, the fact that the milky skinned brunette had his hands buried into Jack’s green fluff was a distant thought. “God, baby, you don’t know how much I missed you~.”

It only took a brief kiss on the neck to snap Jack from his trance, and he nearly stood up if it weren’t for the fact some 20-something year old was _sitting on him_.

“What, no ‘Hello’ kiss?”

That was the straw. Jack took Caesar by the shoulders and pushing him up, slipping out from under him. It would've been impressive, if anybody saw.

“Ah, Jack, don't be that way.” Caesar gave him his signature pout, clearly unhappy with the way Jack was acting. “Didn't you miss me?”

_Hell_ no. 

“I know you did. Why else would you be here?”

Jack had no response for that, and Caesar knew it. He could always read Jack like an open book. 

“Come, let me hear your sweet, sexy voice.”

“Fuck off, Caesar.” The words were out before Jack could stop them. The man tsked and shook his head in feigned sadness.

“Oh, honeytits, you know I don't get hurt by that. If anything, it excites me.”

Jack felt memories he forced down beginning to resurface, but pushed them to the back of his mind again. “I’m leaving.”

Caesar placed a firm hand on his chest, keeping him in place. “Leaving so soon, Jackaboy~? I was hoping we could have a little _fun_.”

Jack hated the way his heart skipped a beat at the words, but he brushed the hand away and stood, Caesar stepping back slightly to give him room. “I don’t even know why I came here.” He took a step away, but was pulled back and pushed onto the chair almost effortlessly. 

“You miss me and you know it.” 

Jack’s ears have always been sensitive, so when the words were husked against his neck, a stuttered breath escaped him. He instantly knew how big of a mistake he made showing weakness towards his ex but tried not to think about the consequences. Maybe he should make a dash for the bathroom and call up Mark to come save him, but what good would that do? That would just let Mark know that he was trying to see his ex, which would just start a heap load of drama. Why did he even come?

Fingers danced across the back of his neck, another hand slipping under his shirt and running up his spine as Caesar smirked down at him. Wasn’t this violating some sort of strip club code?

“That’s okay, Jack,” the man whispered as he leaned down to Jack’s ear again, brushing his lips over it. Jack tried to push him off, but found his body limp. “I missed you, too.” 

That gave Jack the motivation he needed to shove the thirsty man off him and jump to his feet. “I have to--”

Caesar took this chance to grab Jack by his forearm, dragging him towards the ominous curtain that lead to the back room. No matter how hard Jack tried to struggle or drag his feet, Caesar’s strong hold held fast, reaching the curtain within a couple of seconds.

“Caesar, n--”

“That’s Julius to you,” he looked back and winked, causing Jack’s heart to skip.

He hated himself.

Jack let out a grunt as he was thrown into a chair, hardly having any time to adjust himself as Caesar threw himself unceremoniously onto Jack’s lap. “God, Jack… it’s been so long since I’ve been this close to you.” 

Yeah, and Jack was hoping to keep it longer. 

Giving Caesar a shove, Jack let out a yelp as the man on top of him dragged him to the floor, making them land in a suggestive position. Caesar smirked up at him, pulling Jack down by his hoodie’s lapel. “Gosh, Jack, I didn’t think you’d be so eager and frisky~”

Jack put his hands on either side of Caesar’s face, pushing himself away. He didn’t care if his hoodie ripped, he just had to get away from the desperate man below him. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was Caesar to sit up with Jack, landing on his lap with a seductive smirk.

“C’mon, you can’t escape me that easily,” he purred as Jack tried to scramble back, hitting the chair. 

“Caesar, we’re still in the strip club!” Jack hoped he could knock a little bit of sense into the brown-haired man, but to no avail as the skimpily dressed 25-year-old pressed his lips against Jack’s neck. 

“You think the security guards care when you shove $300 in their face?”

Jack felt his jaw slack. $300? How much did a stripper make?! “They allow themselves to be bribed?”

“Not usually,” Caesar pouted as Jack placed a hand on his chest and pushed. “The security guard on shift just… knows me. Well. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re here”-- he began to trail his fingers up and down Jack’s neck. The worst thing about Caesar was that he knew every one of Jack’s sweet spots--“and there’s nothing stopping us from having our fun.”

Part of Jack wanted to punch Caesar in the face, run out and never go back; but the other part… nearly all of Jack wanted to stay there with the man he loved, in a warm embrace. A wave of nostalgia flooded him, but he tried to push it down.

He failed.

Caesar’s fingers began working on Jack’s collarbone. “So, what do you say, Sean? Shall we play?”

Jack opened his mouth, as to say something, but before he could, his breath caught in his chest. Standing across the hallway, staring at him with wide eyes, was the man he’d been trying to get with all along: Mark Fischbach, hand latched onto a customer’s as he led the way to a room where Mark could give the client a good time.

And he did not looked pleased.

The surprise quickly changed from betrayal to anger as he spun suddenly, tugging his tag-along into the room right across from Jack and Caesar, who was kissing passionately on Jack’s collarbone. Despite the assaults against his skin, Jack couldn’t focus on that. Rather, his gaze was trained heavily on Mark’s ass, defined like the muscles on his arms in the pair of dark blue briefs he squeezed into and the way his body seemed to flow from so much practice of the tedious task. Nevertheless, Jack wished he was the one receiving Mark’s attention and not some… _other guy_.

The weight of the situation finally caught up with him the moment he saw grind _very_ sexily against the other man; more sexily than needed.

Mark was purposely trying to make Jack upset.

And it worked.

“Fuck this,” Jack muttered as he grabbed Caesar’s shoulders and shoved him off, clambering to his feet.

“Jack, wai--” 

Whatever his ex said next, Jack didn’t hear. He stormed out of the room, out of the strip club, and tried to maintain his cool before he made it home, surviving with only 3 mph over the speed limit. 

The moment he entered his apartment, he slammed the door, threw his keys at the bowl on the dresser, and let out a yowl in rage as he threw himself at his armchair full force and punched the middle of the back of the fluffy object as hard as he could. He could feel the wood through the cotton, but ignored it as he began to hit one of his throw pillows, digging his nails into the fabric in aggravation before sliding off the chair and burying his face in the same pillow he just attacked. He wanted to cry, but tried his hardest not to.

And yet, as most things he tried at, he failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz if you have a better stripper name for Caesar let me know XD
> 
> But what’s this? Jack, wyd? Overreaction, much? Mark’s a stripper; that’s what he does ;;
> 
> Then again, I guess Mark kinda did try his hardest to make Jack uncomfortable. Or maybe that’s just how Mark works.
> 
> Hell, I dunno; I’m just kinda spewing out whatever at this point XD
> 
> Sorry it's so short; I thought it was longer ;-; Next chapter's gonna be a blast though; I promise ;3
> 
>  
> 
> See any errors? Lemme know! <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, what's this?

He didn’t want to get up.

Jack laid in his bed, squinting as his pale ceiling. His phone buzzed with a reminder for the fifth time that morning, but he ignored it. It wasn’t Mark, so what was the point? 

A long vibration signalled the fact that somebody was calling, but Jack tuned it out. 

He shouldn’t be so upset. He was the one who went, who opened the door that was supposed to stay sealed shut.

Guess he was a bit more upset with himself than anything. 

Sighing, he reached across and answered the phone before he could tell himself not to. “Hello…?” he hummed, sitting up a bit. 

“Jack! I thought you died!” Aaron’s voice caused Jack to even hold his phone away from his ear. And he thought he was loud. “You haven’t been responding, and I can’t get a word out of Mark, either! I texted Dan and Arin, but they say that Mark hasn’t told them anything. Arin said he hasn’t seen Mark this way in a long time; we’re all genuinely worried.” He paused, and Jack cringed. “Wait… is it--”

“Yeah, I’m not dead,” Jack interrupted, already knowing what Aaron was trying to say. He didn’t wanna go down that conversation path yet. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about? I have games to catch up on.”

“Oh,” Aaron took a second to think as Jack heaved himself out of bed and towards his bedroom door. “Yeah, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come to the club with me, Alex, and Craig. Maybe visiting Mark will improve your mood?”

Maybe not.

“No thanks,” Jack yawned as he pulled open his fridge, looking in tiredly. Nothing really jumped out at him, despite the fact he had to fix the half-full pizza box to prevent it from spilling on the floor. “I think I’ll just stay and play games. Besides, I have work tomorrow.”

“Eugh,” Aaron huffed. “But okay. Take care of yourself, dude. ...We’re worried.”

Before Jack could get another word in, Aaron hung up, leaving Jack standing alone in his kitchen, staring blankly into the fridge. With a sigh, he shut it in distaste and went up to his gaming room; maybe a little bit of Event[0] will help him get his mind of things. That game had a certain way of keeping his mind in check.

~

**_ Mark’s POV _ **

_ Last Night _

The sound of cars racing by on the freeway just about drowned out the sound of Mark slamming his car door, locking it with the familiar chime. He wasn’t even supposed to be there; damn Ryan, calling in sick. Mark hoped he had a good recovery, but was really questioning how many sick days somebody could call. Despite this, Mark found his mind wandering back towards where it usually was: Jack.

Ever since Mark mentioned Caesar, he was acting funny, and Mark ultimately just stopped asking about it altogether. Water under the bridge and whatnot, right?

At least, Mark hoped so.

Deep in thought, Mark stumbled his way through the crowds, making it to the backroom and changing so mechanically, it was as if he were a robot. He waltz back into the main room, bare chest puffed out and hair tousled in the way that usually made people look at him.

A voice in his head muttered ‘attention whore’ but Mark paid it no mind.

Stalking the aisles of people in hopes to find somebody to pray upon, he caught glimpse of a familiar glittery outfit.

“Danny!” Mark jumped to his friend’s side, who smiled warmly at him.

“I didn’t know you had work today! Oh…” the Jew pulled a face. “Ryan?”

“Ryan.”

Danny tsked. “That guy sometimes. Hey, but since you’re here, I saw a particularly lonely babe in the corner,” he pointed towards a secluded spot, with people around it, but not near it, if that made sense. “You should go strike up a conversation, maybe pay a visit with Andrew Jackson…?”

Tempting… 

“What’d he order?” Mark looked at the corner, a part of his mind wondering if Dan was playing a joke, and when Mark got over there, it turned out to be either 1) Jack or 2) some fatass nerd with Dorito stains and deep bags under his eyes. Not that Mark had anything against those types of people; he just didn’t know whether or not to trust Dan on this one.

“A pina colada and some onion rings? Gross combo, but he looks rich a-f!” Dan dramatically fanned himself and handed Mark a slip of paper. It had the order on it. “He’s worth a shot. Probably mourning the loss of his 23rd wife or something. Go get ‘im, tiger~” And with that, Dan was gone. Mark gave a suspicious look at the paper before pushing it into his pocket, plastering a flattering smile on his face, and heading to the bar to pick up the order.

 

“Why, hello~”

The scruffy-looking man looking up at Mark through his eyelashes, almost surprised somebody was talking to him. Mark set his order down and took a seat across from him.

“What’s a handsome man like you doing all alone in a place like this?” Mark leaned back, hooking a foot onto his knee and smirking at the man across from him. The man sighed. 

“I had a fallout with my girlfriend,” he mumbled, and Mark just barely heard it above the blasting music. “I’d rather not go into details.”

 _Gosh, what’s wrong with me and finding people who have relationship issues?_ Mark pursed his lips in thought. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t come here for faked sympathy.” The man scooped up his drink and took a swig, nearly slamming it on the table and offering Mark a hand. “The name’s Ken.”

Mark took a second to process what happened before smiling and taking the man’s hand in his own. “The people around here call me Markle-Sparkle, but you can call me Mark.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mark.” Ken flashed him a charming smile, in which Mark smiled right before a wad of money was shoved in his face. “Take my money and give me a good time.”

Awestruck, Mark found himself staring awkwardly at the cash for so long, Ken lowered his hands and looked around anxiously. “T-That’s how things around here work, right?”

The whole situation made Mark snort. “Oh, you’re so precious. C’mon, let’s head to the back.”

Ken let out an awkward laugh as Mark took him by his arm, leading him down towards the back room entrance. A bit of motion caused Mark to look up and see what looked like a floof of green hair disappearing behind the curtain, nearly causing Mark to stop; he shook the thought away, though, remembering Jack mentioning the probability he’d stay home. That, however, left the equal possibility of Jack _not_ staying home.

...Mark decided not to think about that.

Still, he couldn’t help himself from peeking around the curtain corners as he took Ken further into the back room until he got to a room he thought fit.

And that’s when he saw it.

He couldn’t help the rush of emotions when his eyes landed on Jack: hurt, anger, sadness…

Jealousy.

Despite Jack clearly looking uncomfortable with his own situation, Mark dragged Ken into the room direct across from them and threw him into the chair, nearly throwing himself on his lap. Ken looked slightly taken aback and mildly alarmed, regardless of the fact he’d never been to a strip club beforehand-- at least, not a gay one.

Mark began to wonder why Ken even chose a gay club as his body kicked into autopilot, swaying his hips and slightly crouching, leaning his hands on Ken’s thighs, aiming to get as close as possible without making things awkward.

The heavy blush on Ken’s face showed he was doing a good job.

Mark swung one of his legs over Ken’s waist, seating himself firmly on the burly man’s lap and rolling his hips as deeply and sensually as he could, raising an eyebrow at Ken as he slightly jerked at the motion, hands flying up and grabbing onto Mark’s lovehandles with a sudden gasp.

“Jack, wai--” Mark didn’t even have to turn to know the voice belonged to his coworker and Jack’s ex, Julius, before he heard somebody storm away. He tried not to smirk, but found it easier than it should’ve been as he remembered the circumstance, giving Ken one last hip roll before sliding off of him and resuming the ~~normal~~ private dance, the image of Julius kissing on Jack a burning scar in the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, and sorry if it seemed a little _heh-blefehh_ , but at least I got it, right? :D
> 
> Hope you guys liked the new perspective; thought that'd be a little interesting, to see what happened in Mark's POV, y'know? c:
> 
> And _Ken!_ What're ya doin' here, Kenn? Get outta here, you wittle bear, you  <3
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated~


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I’m sick kms~~
> 
> Sorry for the late update ;;
> 
> Things get a little… intense in this chapter.

It was nearly a whole month before Jack decided to go back to the strip club. He’d felt discouraged to even leave his house, but begrudgingly heaved himself to and from work without throwing himself in front of a semi, so he figured he could make it to see Mark before he jumped off a cliff.

Not like he would, but the idea was nice.

Sighing, Jack looked around the club in distaste. Last time he was here, it had been to see Caesar, and that did _not_ end well for anybody involved. Ever since then, Jack kept wondering who that guy Mark took to the back with him was. Probably just a client, sure, but he still felt a little bit of jealousy, even if that was how he got paid.

Then again, he _was_ with Caesar at the time, too, so where was his right to say?

Making his way to the corner he usually sat at with Aaron, Alex, and Craig, Jack nearly flung himself in the safety of the booth, feeling uncomfortable with how many people were in the club at the time. Anybody could stab him with a needle or something, and nobody would know. Jack tried not to think about that, and instead looked around for Mark. 

What he saw, he didn’t like.

Seems like that’s how it’s going to be from now on, huh?

Mark was laughing with another customer who was a bit more on the heavy side than Jack imagined Mark being into. Either Mark was just following code, or…

Nope the guy’s hand was on his ass and Mark made no way to move it okay tough guy back the _fuck off_. 

Averting his gaze, Jack looked at his phone to see a text from Craig, asking him if he was okay. That’s pretty much all anybody texted him about nowadays. Jack didn’t mind; at least he was talking to _somebody_.

Jack told Craig he was fine and locked his phone, looking back up to see Mark press a kiss on the customer’s cheek before he walked away, handing his notebook off to another waiter. Great. So Mark was going onstage, huh? 

Knowing Mark had no way to catch Jack, he turned in his seat and sent the nastiest glare towards the customer who, if he noticed Jack, paid no mind, sipping at his drink and scrolling through his phone. How could Mark already find somebody within the short amount of time since…

Jack mentally shut himself up and relaxed back in his seat, defeated. The time on his phone read that it was only 9:15, and Mark supposedly got off at around midnight.

This was going to be a fun three hours.

~

45% phone battery, three complete conversations with Craig, and two-and-a-half containers of barbeque wings running on two glasses of Jack Daniels, and Jack _still_ hadn’t spoken to Mark. 

Not only that, but guess what time it was.

Go on, guess.

10:26.

Jack had killed over half his battery life in little over an hour.

Magical.

On another note, he did have multiple, very nice conversations with Danny. And none of them were related to Mark. Of course that was after Dan made the mistake of asking about what happened, and getting a very, _very_ uncomfortable sigh from Jack and nearly caused him to break his first glass of Jack Daniels. Naturally, that made him realize that it wasn’t safe to talk about yet. Or ever. 

Rather than actually doing something with his life and maybe going out to party with the other people, Jack found himself glaring spitefully at the man Mark seemed to devote all his time to whilst viciously tearing into his chicken wings. Dan noticed him once, and actually snorted under his breath which made Jack extremely uncomfortable. When Jack asked, Dan just said it was a cough before moving on. This aggravated him, but also persuaded him to stop staring at the poor man and wait patiently for midnight to come. It was almost like an insane FNaF game, where rather than death at the end of the night, there was nothing but angst and heartbreak.

Not only did Jack get to talk to Dan, but also to Arin, once they ended up switching places on the pool. Mark had been up for nearly an hour, and was probably going to switch out soon.

Jack looked at his phone. 10:31. He groaned and nearly fell face first into the wings. Time was passing so _slow_. He looked around emptily for Arin in hopes he’d get his mind off things and pass time. Not seeing the brunette man, Jack resorted back to eating his wings and crying internally, wishing he’d brought a portable charger.

~

Jack nearly threw himself out the door, spinning around to look at the entrance. Even the security guard looked mildly concerned, but Jack paid that no mind. He had to be patient. Just five more minutes. Just fiv--

He needed to get out of the way.

Stepping to the side so he wasn’t in the door’s peripheral vision, Jack leaned against the brick wall and tapped his fingers on his arm. He let his mind wander to what he was going to say when he saw Mark; was he going to be civil or get straight to the point? The best choice would be to be calm and civil, but he wasn’t sure if his brain could properly relay that information to his mouth. 

He was definitely counting on himself to fuck up.

Jack nearly missed the sound of the club doors opening, but he immediately kicked off the wall and stood in front of whoever was coming out, making them let out a surprised noise and start swinging. Luck for Jack, reflexes kicked in and he ducked under the blow, stepping back with his hands raised. “Whoawhoawhoa, look where you’re swinging, dude!”

Mark blinked in confusion before raising his eyebrows, surprised. “Jack? I thought you were a fuckin’ clown or some shit!”

Jack let out an uneasy chuckle. “Ah, well, I mean I am, sorta but… not the kill-y kind.”

Mark still looked on edge, but released a half amused, half nervous breath. “Yeah, uh… anyway, what’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Jack said, trying to keep his emotions in check. He _knew_ Mark had seen him in the club; they _made fucking eye contact for fucks sakes_. Jack kept his cool, though, and motioned with his hands as he spoke: “I wanted to talk about… things.”

“Like what?” Mark’s hostile tone really was not helping Jack’s mood.

“Oh, I dunno… like why you act like you didn’t see me and spent all your time talking to the same guy, so much that you made Dan come and serve me?”

Mark tilted his head in ~~feigned~~ confusion. “Made? Dude, Dan works there, too. I had to go on stage after you walked in and--”

“So you admit seeing me!”

“Well, I won’t admit to _not_ seeing you.”

The tired Irish rubbed his face with an aggravated sigh. “Okay, before I completely flip my shit, can you at least tell me who that guy was? I can tell he wasn’t just an average customer.”

“Awhh,” Mark cooed, making Jack’s blood level spike. “Is Jackaboy jealous?”

_Don’t fucking call me that you American piece of shit I'm mad at you right now._ “Answer the fuckin’ question.”

“Anybody tell you your Irish accent is really cute?”

“Mark, for _fucksake_ , tell me who he was!”

“No need to raise your voice,” Mark was clearly stalling. “I’m just teasing.”

“Mark…” Jack drawled his name, which made the man he was speaking to’s eyebrow twitch and a weird look flash in his eyes. Jack pawned it off, and opened his mouth to speak again when the door swung open.

“Oh, hey. Was wonderin’ where you were. Everything okay?”

Jack looked up as Mark turned around to the tall brunette man Mark had been talking to all night. 

“Yeah!” Mark chirped, leaning into his open arm. “Everything’s fine. Oh, Jack. This is my boyfriend.”

“Hi,” the man said, pushing up his glasses before offering Jack his hand. Jack nearly slapped it away, but shook it despite the burn in his soul. “I’m Bob.”

“Jack,” the green-haired man grumbled in the least rude way possible for him in that moment. 

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Anyway, Jack, if you’re done interrogating me, Bob and I would like to go home.”

That was all Jack needed to hear ~~(besides, he didn’t want to see Mark slightly grinding his ass on Bob’s hip anymore)~~ ; he spun on his heel and sulked back to his car as fast as he could.

~

_** Mark’s POV ** _

The moment Jack got into his car, slammed the door, and drove away, Mark and Bob instantly began to cackle with laughter, Bob unwinding his arm from Mark’s waist and the shorter of the two leaning on his knees as he laughed, biting his knuckles to try and stop his hysterics.

“Dude, did you see his face? He looked like he was about to fuck me up!” Bob continued to laugh as they walked to Mark’s car, being as he gave Bob a ride to the club in order to fulfil the plan. 

“I saw, man! I thought he was gonna go Batman on your ass.” Mark snorted as he unlocked his car.

“I wouldn’t’ve been surprised, honestly,” the man continued as they slid into the car. “From what you told me, he really likes you.”

“He also technically cheated on me.” Mark grumbled as he started the vehicle, shifting it into reverse.

“But you guys weren’t technically dating.”

“We technically were. I mean, we both liked each other.”

“Like.”

“Whatever. It’s too late now.”

“Because you had to dig the knife deeper. If you’d talked to him about what happened, maybe you guys would be fucking each other right now.”

Mark brought his wrist back and smacked it across Bob’s arm, earning a laugh. “Fuck off, Bob.”

“Hey, for all Jack knows, that’s what we’re doing right now.”

Mark reached to turn on the radio.

“Hey, I’m just trying to get under your skin, not in your ass.” Bob pushed Mark’s hand away from the radio and back to the steering wheel. “I’m just trying to knock some sense into you. Jack really looked like he wanted to talk to you about everything, but you just had to push him off. You know, sometimes I marvel at how stupid you are.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Mark sighed, turning on his turn signal. “I fucked up. But it felt good.”

“How?”

Mark took a minute to think. It actually really _didn’t_ feel good watching the man he believed actually loved him--out of the hundreds upon hundreds of people he’s served and treated, Jack actually felt… _real_. 

“When I saw him and Julius, it… it really fuckin’ hurt, okay? After I gave that Ken guy a dance and heard him storm off, I knew it upset him but it just wasn’t… what I wanted. I didn’t get to see the hurt like he did when I noticed them.”

“You lost me there, but continue.”

Mark snorted before taking in a shaky breath. “Letting Jack see me with you… it was nice. I knew it hurt him; I knew he still… he still _cared_ about me, and he really wanted to talk to me. It might’ve been too harsh, and it might’ve been the wrong way to go about it, but… at least I know now.”

“You better pray Jack’ll talk to you after this,” Bob muttered, and Mark silently agreed, even if his ego and pride wouldn’t allow him to say that aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, and don't worry about the sudden appearance of Bob; that'll be explained next chapter!!
> 
> Also just realized I originally called Dan... _‘Dan’_ but now I keep calling him ‘Danny’ ._.
> 
> Also please forgive me if Bob’s a little OOC; I don’t watch him often. ~~Like… ever.~~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gay.  
> Just.  
> So.  
> FUckin.  
> Gay.

**_ Mark’s POV _ **

_ Three Days Prior _

 

“Mark, what.”

The American sighed at his friend’s questioning. Of course he wouldn’t just openly agree to something so… awkward.

“You heard me, didn’t you?” Mark inquired in a sweet, innocent voice.

“Yes, but I just want to make sure I heard right. Repeat it one more time for me, nice and slow.”

Mark wasn’t stupid. He knew the person on the other side of the line was just trying to pry the information from him again, marvel in it.

“I wanted to know, if you wanted to help me out, by pretending to be my boyfriend, to make somebody jealous.”

The muffled snorts that came from the phone was nearly enough to cause Mark to hang up.

“O-One more time?” he sniffled, and Mark just about threw his controller at the TV screen.

“No. Fuck you, Wade; I’ll just--”

“No, no, Mark, I’m sorry,” the voice continued to laugh, earning a harsh glare that he couldn’t see. “That was just so priceless. I should’ve recorded it.” He could practically hear Wade wipe an imaginary tear. “But, Mark, I’m so, so sorry.” Wade hummed in the most sincere voice he could muster. “I have to decline your wonderful offer, as I am doing something with Molly for now. But, please know, that if you need me for anything again, I will surely accept.”

“Fuck you,” Mark spat, earning another hearty chuckle.

“Maybe you can ask Bob,” Wade offered, which was a better idea than what Mark had. He looked down at the number still fresh on his skin, with the name ‘Ken’ above it. Yeah, Bob was a safer bet. If he could make it. If not, well… 

Mark hoped Ken wouldn’t hate him.

“No promises he can make it, though,” the man shrugged, reading Mark’s mind. “But it wouldn’t hurt giving him a call. Unless he calls you first.”

“Wha--”

“Gotta go; bye Mark!”

Mark pulled his phone away with a confused look. Right as he was about to hit the lock button, it lit up again, caller ID letting Mark know exactly who it was.

“Seems like you need a friend to help you scratch an itch on your prostate.”

Mark went to hang up.

“Mark, hear me out,” Bob continued, his voice causing the short American to puff out his cheeks, but keep listening. “Wade texted me while you guys were on the phone. Lucky for you, my schedule's all freed up. I can fly out to LA and make it there by tomorrow evening. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Pack a lot, dude; I dunno when Jack’s gonna show his face.”

“Jack, huh?”

Mark huffed at the slip. “Yeah, I’ll explain everything when you get here. Thanks, Bob.”

“No problem. You’re lucky I have a good paying job. Why don’t I treat you, huh? Like the bitch you are.”

“ ** _OKAY BYE BOB SEE YOU WHEN YOU GET HERE!!!_** ” 

Mark couldn’t hang the phone up fast enough to miss the sound of Bob’s cackling.

~

**_ Jack’s POV _ **

Once again, Jack sat in front of his computer, numb to everything he was doing as he mindlessly shot down people in Overwatch. Mission after mission after goal after mission completed, but Jack didn’t notice. Aaron and Alex and whoever else was playing with them on the Skype call chattered in his ear, but Jack made no move to join the conversation. Why would he? They were just talking about dinner, other games, how badass they were, how they should’ve gotten ‘Play of the Game’...

Why was he even still playing?

“Hey, uh… I gotta go.”

“Awh, c’mon, don’t be that way. We need you to help kick these guys’ asses!” Aaron’s words riled the rest of the team, causing Jack to sigh. Yeah, sure, he was having fun, he was passing the time, and he had work the next day. It was only 2 in the afternoon to boot. Jack could always take a walk, or do something productive, like try and beat one of the games he had on Steam. 

Jack decided to listen to his crippling loneliness and keep playing with friends.

“Okay, fine,” Jack sighed, taking a gulp of his soda. “But just for a bit longer.”

The group cheered, and another round was launched. 

~

**_ Aaron’s POV _ **

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Yo, Arin, ever get through to Mark?_

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >No. He's been down in the dumps for a while. And he doesn’t have trash duty-- HAH PUNSSSSSSS_

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >What the fuck Arin xD_   
_ >>Anyway, this is serious. Jack’s been pretty down, too, which is totally wrong._

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Damn dude, I guess this really is a… _   
_ >>TRASHY SITuATIOn!!_   
_ >>>hhHAAAAAAHHH_

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >jfc dude lololol_   
_ >>Seriously tho_

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >I’m just trying to liven up the mood a bit, jeez. No need to_

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Trash_

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >tRASH my pArtY!!_   
_ >>Way to steal my thunder dude. _   
_ >>>I’m so offended._

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Then stop making puns and actually focus._   
_ >>We need to get Jack and Mark to actually be happy again._

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >I know, but idk how to make them talk again._

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >What if you throw a party?_

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >OH I KNOW_   
_ >>I CAN THROW A PaRTy!!!!_

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Oh My GOoOOooDD_   
_ >>Then get on it._

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Fuckin’ bossy, man._   
_ >>The only one who can boss me around_   
_ >>>Is DannY--OOOHHHHHH_

**Message to: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >Fuckin_   
_ >>GOodbye._

**Message from: Awesome Handsome ;)**   
_ >hUEHUHEUHEUHEUHEUHE_

~

**_ Mark’s POV _ **

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >YOOOOOO GUESS WHAT MUTHAFUCKA_

**Message to: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >OOHH SHIIIT WHAAAT????_

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >THERE’S GONNA BE APARTYYYYY_

**Message to: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >WHOA DUDE REALLY_

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >YEAH AND YOU’RE SOOO NOT INVITEEEDDD_

**Message to: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >Wait, what?_

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >Okay, dude, before you flip your shit, I lied. You are invited, but_   
_ >>buT_   
_ >>>You have to wait. Before. Coming._   
_ >>>>It’s all part of a big plan, dude! We’re gonna invite Jack, but Jack won’t come if he knows you’re there_   
_ >>>>>So._   
_ >>>>>>We’re gonna tell him. That you’re not coming. So he comes. And then…_   
_ >>>>>>>bAM!!!_   
_ >>>>>>>>Outta nowhere, you come in like ‘OshIt guYs tUrns oUt mY scHeDuel’s frEE lEt’s Party it uP!!!11!!!!1!!1_   
_ >>>>>>>>>And._   
_ >>>>>>>>>>Then._   
_ >>>>>>>>>>>you and jack_   
_ >>>>>>>>>>>>fuck._   
_ >>>>>>>>>>>>>Y’know?????!_

**Message to: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >Okay, uh… why do you think Jack won’t come if he hear’s that I’m coming?_   
_ >>You know what? Nevermind. Sounds good. When is it?_

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >This Saturday! At like, idk, 8 ish?_

**Message to: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >Alright, I can’t go until at least eleven anyway, so that’ll be fine. See you then._

**Message from: EEERIIINNNNN**   
_ >yEAH!_

~

**_ Jack’s POV _ **

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >Hey, Jack! There’s a party again this Saturday!_

**Message to: sAnic**   
_ >Awh, idk if I can make it, dude…_

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >Mark won’t be there._

**Message to: sAnic**   
_ >Oh, really? At what time; I’ll see if I can make it._

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >Around 8, maybe 8:20? Just aim for 8. It’ll be loads of fun._

**Message to: sAnic**   
_ >The only load I want_   
_ >>Is yours_   
_ >>>On me._

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >OhohOHohoh!_   
_ >>Jack…_   
_ >>>I didn’t know…_   
_ >>>>;)_

**Message to: sAnic**   
_ >jfc your gayness is starting to rub off on me._

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >I’ll let you rub one off on me ;)))))_

**Message to: sAnic**   
_ >Awh yeee ;DDD_   
_ >>Get your gay face outta here Arin XD_

**Message from: sAnic**   
_ >lololololol_   
_ >>See you Saturday_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody is so OOC and gay and I just
> 
> You guys all have front-row seats to the party cuz it’s on a satURDAY OOHHH


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pARRRTTTYYYYY *ScrEECh*
> 
> Also hAPPY HALLOWEEN AND WHATHAVEYOU

Jack felt like a zombie. Maybe not a legit zombie; those zombies from _Warm Bodies_ who end up becoming alive again? Yeah, he felt like one’a those.

As he slugged his way up towards the stairs to the door, he began to wonder if Mark would actually show. He was supposed to be working, but there was always the possibility he could come back.

And bring _Bob_ with.

Ugh.

Jack didn’t need that in his life.

 _Oh, suck it up, Jack,_ he thought to himself as he stood in front of the entryway. So what if Mark comes? Don’t let what happened keep you from having a good time. You’re gonna waltz in there, be loud, obnoxious, and have a fucking great _time._

Filled with determination, Jack shoved the door open, blared a sound file of an air horn off his phone, and kicked the door shut whilst screaming, “Whaddup, bi _tches_???!”

“Ayyyy!!” Everybody (Ross, Danny, Arin, Suzy, Holly, Barry, Kevin, etc.) yelled back as Jack locked his phone and put it away, opening his arms for the bearhug Arin wrapped him in. “Jack, you made it!”

“Good to see you again!”

“Hey, Green-Jack!”

“Yooo!!!!”

Jack smiled at the warm embrace everybody offered him, feeling his mood lift immediately. It was gonna be a good night.

~

HAH!! Take that, Link!!”

Ross let out a groan as his character flew off screen with an explosion, giving Jack’s mighty Pikachu another win. “Dammit, you’re too good. I vote him off!!”

“It’s almost time for teams, anyway,” Barry said from between Ross’s legs, reaching up and slapping him nearly in the balls. Ross and even Jack twitched at the closeness, but Ross rubbed his ~~boy~~ friend’s hand comfortingly nonetheless. “You can handle it.”

“Not with this fuckin’ Ass-achu over here beating me every round.”

“Then git gud,” Jack sneered as another round started, Jack staying with his champion. The party was going on four hours, the beginning two killed off with Arin and Dan playing a Zelda game, while Jack chatted it up and got to know a few other people from the party. He didn’t have ~~Mark~~ Aaron, Craig, or ~~(Mark)~~ Alex to talk to, so he decided to talk with Ross, Barry, Holly, and even attempted to talk to Brian, in which Suzy casually swooped in and saved the poor Irishman from the awkward prolonged staring that was probably going to go on for fifteen minutes. After a while, Jack soon started chatting with ‘Not-Green Jack’, releasing his inner Irish, causing much “joy” to Ross and Barry, who were practically choking on their own lungs as the two Irishmen communed. 

That was when Arin announced the starting of _Smash Bros_.

Arin, Ross, Jack, and Danny were situated on the couch, clutching Wii remotes and kicking each others asses in a free-for-all battle. 

Jack dominated each round with Pikachu, Arin rockin’ Donkey Kong, Ross controlling Link, and Danny smashing ass with Mario. 

“Alright, guys, pick your teams!”

Danny snagged onto Jack as Ross and Arin teamed together. Arin made a couple of betrayed noises while Danny comfortingly(?) rubbed his knee. The match was about to start, and everybody readied themselves for a smackdown. 

And then the door slammed open with the sound of a confetti popper.

“Whaddup motherfuckers; guess who’s off work?!” 

Fuckin’ hell.

“AYyyy!!!” Once again, people cheered out while Jack kept his eyes on the screen.

“What’re you guys playing?” Jack tried not to make his shuffling obvious as Mark set a couple of WalMart bags full of snacks on the ground before looking at the screen. “Oh, sweet! I haven’t played this in forever!”

“Here!” Danny nearly smacked Mark in the face with the Wii remote as he scrambled to his feet, scooping up the bags as he went. Mark opened his mouth, but Dan was gone before he could say anything. Arin pat the spot where he was warmly, which--you guessed it!-- was right next to Jack. Who was about ready to vault over the couch and throw himself out a window. As the match was loading, Arin looked at his phone and held it up.

“Guys, Ryan and Matt have the pizzaaaa!!”

The whole room whoped as Jack internally raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard either of their names before, but he wasn’t next to somebody he wanted to ask. Even if Mark looked slightly uncomfortable at the mention of their names.

“They say they’re gonna be here soon with i-- oH SHIT!”

Too late.

Mark falcon punched Arin’s character off screen, earning a groan from him. Despite everything, Jack found himself biting back a laugh. The noise caused Mark to look at him with his goddamn gorgeous eyes and doofy smile and f _uck_ Jack could just get lost in those shit-brown orbs forever. 

He forced himself to look away as he smacked Ross nearly off the screen.

“Dude, you two need to chill!” Arin shouted as Mark immediately targeted him, Jack having Ross’s full attention. “It was a mistake putting you two on the same team!”

The round was over quickly, and Ross and Mark traded places. “Okay, this should be fairer.”

It was, the fight dragging on much longer. Soon it was just Mark (1 life) and Jack (2 lives) in the ring, attacking each other fervently and muttering swears under their breath as the battle intensified.

“What did you say?” Mark ask genuinely as he came back from near death, releasing a special attack onto Jack.

“I said your mo _ther’s a hairy badger’s aRSE!_ ” Jack nearly slammed the Wii remote on his knee as his character flew offscreen. 

A few playful ‘ooh’s and audible inhales ensued around the room as everybody paid close attention to the screen. The loser of this would get their team booted off the game so everybody had a chance to play.

“Oh, yeah?” Mark asked, teasing still in his voice. “Well, your mother’s a lazy lard excrement.”

“Creative,” Jack snarled as the battle continued. “You’re an arse weed.” 

“Well _you’re_ a cock wielding douchewaffle.”

“Gobshite.”

“Dickbrain.”

“Asshat."

"Is your ass jealous of the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth?”

“You must have been born on a highway because that's where most accidents happe-- f _uck_!” 

They both snorted as Jack recovered from almost getting a KO. The fight was going on unbelievably long, but everybody around them was laughing at their stupid insults towards each other.

“You're the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard.”

“You’ve a head on ye like a box of harp.” Jack spat, which made Mark giggle before chanting ‘no’ as he tried not to get killed. 

“Doucheclown.”

“Slutbag.”

“Cunt McNug.”

Jack bit back a laugh. “Gobdaw.”

“Fuckwit.”

“You really shouldn’t _fuckwit_ me right now,” Jack began before he could stop himself, “I’m trying to beat your ass!”

Mark leaned closer to the Irishman and whispered, “Maybe you need assistance with that?” 

Jack flushed, and tried to knock Mark off screen.

“Fuc-- _no_!” 

Before Mario went soaring off the stage, he threw a fireball at Jack. who used Thunder at the same time. The room fell silent as both characters flew off screen, surpassing the blast line and instantly killing them both.

“ _ **DRAW!**_ ” The TV called as everybody stood in shock. 

“I… didn’t even know that was possible.” Arin muttered beside them, saying what everybody was thinking.

“Well… that settles it.” Mark shrugged as he put his Wii Remote down. “I guess we’re both out, Jack.”

Jack shrugged, standing up and putting his remote next to Mark’s. “Yeah, I s’pose.”

Before anybody would say anything, the door opened. “Guess who has pizza!” 

“Ryan, Matt!” The game was left abandoned for a second as Arin jumped to his feet and rushed to their aid, taking the boxes from them. “Thank you guys so much!”

Jack, standing beside Mark, noticed how nervous Mark suddenly got. Despite himself, he put a hand on Mark’s shoulder, causing the taller American to look at him.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asked, and Mark gave him a stiff smile.

“It’s nothing.”

Mark and Jack stepped out of the way as Arin led to two men into the kitchen. The lean blond one passed a glance to Mark, and then his eyes landed on Jack. The Irishman shifted as his eyes flicked up and down his body, and felt Mark’s hand briefly press on his back before instantly retreating as if Jack’s body was a hot stovetop. It almost made Jack feel guilty, but he shoved that feeling down, reminding himself that Mark had a boyfriend.

Fuckin’ Christ was he _trying_ to kill Jack?

Right as Jack thought that, Mark tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Jack? Can I, uh… talk to you for a minute?”

Yep. Mark was _definitely_ trying to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~The end is nigh…~~
> 
> Also I cheated. I had to look up a list of insults in order to get that section in. Please forgive me i’m not a mean person.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School fuckin’ sucks…
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, who’s ready for some sEXYTIMES?! THIS CHAPTER IS MATURE BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE BAOUT TO GET FUCKED HARD
> 
> ALL THAT TENSION MARK AND JACK HAVE BEEN BUILDING UP?
> 
> IT ALL EXPLODES HERE IN THE FORM OF GROSS, GOOEY EJACULATION
> 
> YEP I SAID IT. I DID THAT. I SAID THAT. FITE ME U TRASHBIGGLES.
> 
> *hEavY bReatHing*
> 
>  
> 
> Also for those who are wondering what happened to _Too Lazy To Love_...
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> ~~I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME~~   
>  ~~at least i hope you’re out there ;n;~~
> 
>  
> 
> noW WHO’S READY FOR CRINGE

When Jack followed Mark towards one of the bedrooms in the back, he wasn’t too sure what to expect. Panic didn’t settle in until Mark shut the door behind them…

And _locked it_.

“Jack, listen to me for a second. I know I was out of line the night I--”

“Ya think?” Jack rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as the memories blossomed forth once more. 

“No, Jack,” Mark grumbled sternly, maintaining the eye contact Jack desperately wished to break. “Let me finish. When I saw you with Juliu-- _Caesar_... I was honestly torn apart. I didn’t let you explain yourself, and I jumped to conclusions. It was really stupid but, hey, this is me we’re talking about here. I’m a complete moron.”

Jack still felt skeptical. “What about Bob?” Mark winced at the venomous tone he took.

“We aren’t dating. We never were.”

“What?” Jack could feel many emotions arise in his chest: confusion, hurt… _anger_. “What do you mean you were never dating?!”

“I want-- Jack, lis _ten to me for a minute!_ ” Jack paused at the harsh tone, turning from the door to look at Mark with his brows furrowed. “I _know_ I fucked up, okay? I know it was stupid, even for me! I just.. I wanted to see if you actually still… _cared_. I was jealous of you and Caesar, and I let that get to me. I know that’s not much of an excuse, but… Jack, please.”

Jack nearly scoffed, but decided to cough instead. “You’re such a dumb.”

“Wha--”

“Of course I fuckin’ still care, you doof.” Jack took in a breath. He couldn’t get ahead of himself. He couldn’t trip over his feelings, no matter what Mark said. He had to remain strong, even if he wanted to give in to Mark’s bright eyes. “But I can’t stress enough on how big of a stoop you are. Why did you think that was a good idea?”

“I didn’t!” Mark exclaimed, sitting on the bed in exasperation. “I… really didn’t. I panicked; I thought I’d lost you to _him_.”

“Caesar?” Jack snorted, shifting on his feet. “Please, like that would ever happen. I forgot how absolutely ridiculously gay he is.”

“You’re gay, too-- Hell, _I’m_ gay!”

“Well, he’s the stereotypical gay. Y’know”-- Jack smacked his lips, swung his hips to the right, and bit his lower lip as he ran his eyes up and down Mark’s body--“Hay gurl! Ah, you look _soo_ good in that shirt; oh you _have_ to tell me where you got those _jeans!_ ”

Mark was wheezing by the time Jack got done with his spleel.

Jack wasn’t going to tell Mark he was lying, and he knew Caesar was really just like Mark; if not more dominant/confident. But Jack liked the soft side of Mark, just as much as he liked the hard side of Caesar ~~if you know what I mean huehueheuh~~. Caesar was a really good actor; in fact, in high school, that’s what he wanted to be. Jack didn’t know why he suddenly became a stripper, but he didn’t care enough to find out. Nor did he really have a chance, or the nerve, to.

There was a moment of silence (other than their chuckling) before Mark stood and approached the green-haired Irishman. Minorly concerned and alarmed, Jack took a reflexive step back, but continued shuffling over his own feet with the taller American’s rapid approach. Jack hit the wall just to be caged by Mark’s left arm ~~(holy fuck look at th _at muscle_ )~~ and the wall behind him.

(Sure, yeah, Jack’s own left was open, and he could easily slide out, but when trapped under a hot Korean-German guy staring at you like you’re the last piece of cake on Earth, you kinda feel grounded where you are.)

“Ah… M-Mark?”

No response came from the man, whose gaze seemed to be becoming more ravenous with each passing second.

“I was worried,” Mark began softly, his eyes drifting up and down his body. Jack shifted, but didn’t try to run, “that I’d lost you.”

“Who’s to say that you haven’t?”

Mark blinked, as if coming out of his trance, and his eyes scanned the floor back and forth as he tried to find an answer or figure out of Jack was joking or not.

_Don’t do it,_ a voice in Jack’s mind said as he pulled his arms up and placed his hands on Mark’s face. _Jack, don’t you fuCKING-- **Oh my gOD**_

Against his ~~obvious~~ better judgement, Jack pulled Mark’s face to his own, pushing their lips together in an oddly fervent kiss. Not as surprising as Jack would’ve liked, being as the moment their lips connected, Mark wrapped one arm around Jack’s waist and another wound its way into Jack’s hair. The whole thing reminded Jack of a shitty romance anime, and, despite the fact their lips weren’t connected, Jack still held onto him like his life depended on it. “Relax, you still have me.”

Mark’s eyes lit up as he smiled, purring softly as Jack’s hands ran across his neck. Jack repeated the motion, dragging his fingernails against the sensitive skin and watching as Mark leaned his head the opposite direction to give Jack more skin to explore. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled, lashes fluttering as his eyes closed slowly. Jack licked his lips. 

Mark inhaled sharply, shortly, as Jack pressed his mouth under Mark’s jaw, kissing down to near the middle of his neck before licking him. He was salty from sweat, no doubt from a hard day at work. It tasted delicious on Mark’s tanned skin. 

“Ahh-- ow…!” Mark gasped as Jack bit into his neck, one of Jack’s hands grabbing Mark’s hip and the other holding the opposite side of his neck.

“Did that hurt…?” Jack breathed against Mark’s now moist nape, earning a visible shiver.

“N-Not really. More pleasurable than painful…” The response was panted out, a deep grumble, causing a stir in Jack’s loins. “Just… surprising.”

“So you liked it.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Mark exhaled harshly as Jack once again sunk his teeth into Mark’s skin, letting go almost immediately and kissing the raw flesh. He had a strong urge to mark him, to make sure everybody knew Mark belonged to Jack and Jack alone.

“If you leave marks, you have to let me leave some, too.”

“Of course.” Jack ran his tongue across Mark’s Adam’s Apple before lifting his head to meet Mark’s gaze. They smiled, leaning into yet another kiss. They leaned too far, apparently; Mark’s body began to fall with gravity, and Jack let out a yelp as he landed on the man, who landed on the bed. A small ‘umf’ came from the half-Korean, and Jack immediately tried to scramble off with an apology. He found himself grounded, though, as Mark held Jack’s hips on his own. Jack opened his mouth to question what Mark was doing when Mark pushed Jack’s hips one way and slid the other before repeating the motion backwards (pulling Jack’s hip toward him and sliding his hips away). Jack’s breath caught as he felt Mark through their jeans, pressing his erection against Jack’s testicles. The sensation, the friction, the pleasure; it sent shivers down Jack’s spine as he arched his back and moaned. Mark settled for tossing his head into the covers and biting his lip to try and stunt any noises, a few muffled groans escaping. The sounds went straight to Jack’s dick, straining against its fabric coffin annoyingly, almost painfully. He wanted more; _needed_ more. 

“Fahck-- M _ark_.”

The man below him bucked his hip at his name being drawled, grinding harder. It wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. 

Jack’s hands reached down, fumbling with Mark’s fly as the man chuckled. “Eager, aintcha?”

“Fuck the foreplay, man!” Jack complained as he lifted himself off Mark’s lap, wiggling the jeans down. Mark helped by lifting his hips to hit Jack’s again, playfully. There was way too much tension between them to kiss each other’s necks and grind on each other any longer.

Jack could tell Mark agreed, and he stretched up to unbutton Jack’s jeans, using the moment with Jack already in the air to pull them down.

Along with his dark blue boxer-briefs.

“Now who’s the eager one?” Jack purred, bending down to kiss Mark’s jawline again. Why the fuck was he so attractive? Insecure thoughts about his own appearance began to crawl into his mind, but they quickly fled the moment he felt foreign fingers graze his dick. His breath stuttered at the contact, Mark’s hands cold from the conditioned air around them. He let out another gasp as Mark pulled slightly on the organ, watching the Irishman’s face with intent. Jack closed his eyes, grabbing onto Mark’s wrist. The man made a noise out of confusion, and Jack sighed, “Not yet.”

“Worried you’re gonna finish before we even start?” Mark chuckled, and Jack smacked his chest. 

“Shut up; it’s not my fault you’re really attractive.”

Mark smiled. “You’re not that bad looking yourself.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’d have a better time fucking you.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

Mark snickered as Jack once again lifted his hips, ripping Mark’s ~~red~~ boxer-briefs down.

“Christ on a bike…!” Jack muttered, grazing his fingers on the underside of Mark’s erect cock. It twitched under his fingerpads. Jack studied Mark’s face as he slowly wrapped his fingers around the flesh, pressing his thumb softly on the protruding vein. A while ago, Jack noticed that Mark’s arms got veiny, too. He just assumed it was because the skin was pulled taught from having to hold his own weight on a pole, but he didn’t know how _this_ pole came into play. Maybe all dicks got that way? Jack never noticed anything like it on his own dick, so he wasn’t sure. Then again, when he masturbated, he didn’t necessarily feel his own cock and think ‘Wow, I’m especially veiny today!’. 

What the fuck happened to his train of thought?

Mark’s breathing is what brought him back to reality, the heavy ‘hhfs’ reminding Jack of the situation he was in. Which was on Mark’s lap, pre _ssing their dicks together and coating them both in precum_.

Fucking disgusting.

Jack loved it.

“I thouGHt we were d-done with foreplay…?” Mark panted, biting the back of his hand to stop from moaning. How dare he. Jack wanted to hear him cry out in ecstasy. 

“Oh, we are.”

Mark began to sputter as Jack lifted his hips, still rubbing the tips of their dicks together. “W-Wait, hold on.”

Jack paused and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. His green hair was sticking to his forehead sickly, and Mark’s was doing the same.

“I, ah… I have… this…?”

Jack looked at the wrapper in Mark’s hand and a snort escaped him. “You planned this.”

“Hey, this doesn’t mean shit,” Mark defended. “I’m just… prepared.”

“You could just wear a condom all the time. Then you’d be really prepared.”

“They’re fuckin’ uncomfortable,” he muttered as Jack plucked it from his hand, examining it. 

“Maybe you’re just too hung for the size you keep buying,” Jack suggested as he spit on his hand. Mark’s eyes went wide in confusion, and his thighs twitched as Jack rubbed the moist palm against his length. A shudder caused Mark’s body to tremble.

“You could just lick it.”

“Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there.”

Jack rolled his eyes as set the condom on the nightstand, sitting back on Mark’s thighs with a soft sigh. Right as he settled, his body was flipped over, with Mark on top and Jack against the covers. Jack’s fingers grasped Mark’s shirt, raising an eyebrow at the new position. He wasn’t too sure he liked this one as much as before. Nevertheless, he was sure he could grow to enjoy it.

Jack let out a breath as Mark dragged his tongue up the side of his neck, pressing his hand against his dick. A moan slipped out that was probably supposed to resemble Mark’s name, but Jack wasn't sure if it sounded like that. 

“So, uh…” Jack panted out as Mark continued his motions, “Awkward question.”

Mark looked Jack in the eyes with curiosity and mild concern. “What is it?”

He averted his gaze as he thought about how to phrase what was on his mind. “How many people have you fucked around with?”

It was Mark’s turn to look away. “I haven’t done anything outside the club with any customers, if that’s what you’re implying. The last time I got laid was probably in college.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? How have you survived? I saw some pretty hot guys in the club.”

“I’m not after looks.”

That explained why Mark was on top of Jack, of all people.

“Probably answers the biggest question on your mind, too,” Mark teased, and Jack smacked his chest.

“Rude.”

Mark laughed, leaning his forehead on Jack’s. “Hey, so, have you done this before?”

“Am I supposed to assume you have?” Jack could feel Mark’s breath on his lips.

“Please don’t,” Mark chuckled softly, moving his head so his lips were angled with Jack’s ear. He exhaled against it, the air wafting over his jaw, causing Jack to shiver. “You’re gonna take my gay virginity.”

Jack snorted at the stupid statement.

“Never really got gay sex anyway,” Jack muttered as Mark licked his earlobe, nibbling on it. His eyes studied the ceiling-- or what he could see of it. It was really fuckin’ dark in the room they were in. Not like he was complaining; it made for a better mood. Plus, his eyes were already adjusted. “Who wants to shove their dick up somebody’s asshole?”

“Me, up yours.”

Okay. We’ll give him that one.

“Well then get the fuck on with it, then."

“Well, maybe you should get the fuck on it, then.”

Jack inhaled deeply, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips. Even though Mark pretended not to feel proud at his own jokes, Jack still felt his smile against his skin as Mark kissed Jack’s neck again. 

“Alright, maybe I will.” 

Mark let out a yell as Jack pushed back against Mark, somehow pushing him onto his back and leaving Jack, once again, on top, a drop a sweat running down his nose. As dark as it was, it was really hot, too. Maybe because two horny-ass men were trying to fuck each other at the same time. ~~Sadly~~ Neither of their dicks were big enough for that shit. 

Jack leaned back, slapping the bedside table to grab the condom Mark produced mere minutes ago, holding it up to his face and squinting as he ripped it open. Mark writhed beneath him at the sound.

“You’re really going for it.”

“I’m tired of sitting here and my dick’s beginning to hurt when it should be my ass; yes, Mark. I’m going for it.”

Jack jolted as cold fingers grazed his inner thighs. “I’m not complaining. Just thought you’d try to prepare a bit more.”

“There’s no time for preparation,” Jack snipped, pressing the condom on Mark’s dick. “No thanks to you and your goddamn teasing.”

“We talk too much for sex.”

“And I thought I was the rambler.”

Mark rolled his eyes as Jack leaned forward, pressing their lips together again and rolling the rubber completely on Mark’s length. Mark’s tongue prodded at Jack’s lips, and the Irishman opened his mouth to accept the organ, swirling his around Mark’s and sucking softly. Thinking about Mark’s words, Jack inhaled slightly as he mentally prepared himself for _fingering his own asshole_. Mark, the mindreader, moved his hands, pressing them against Jack’s butt, massaging his fingertips into the flesh. At the same time, he brought Jack’s hip down, their cocks once again rubbing together. As they broke apart for a breath, Mark looked into Jack’s eyes, scanning them, reading them. “W-wouldn’t it hurt? Without prepping?”

Jack snorted under his breath. “Little do you know, I have fingered myself multiple times.”

“Your fingers aren’t as big as my dick.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Dildos exist.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “You… you’ve used dildos?”

“Have one probably bigger than your cock at home.” What could he say? He was a size queen.

Mark choked on his saliva, holding a hand to his mouth as he laughed. “Damn, man. Never pegged you as a guy who would.”

“You’ve never pegged a guy at all, so shut up.”

Mark tried not to laugh at that (as did Jack) as they kissed again, Jack reaching down and stroking both their dicks in unison. Their prolonged activity was beginning to hurt Jack’s groin; he wasn’t really sure how much longer he could even keep his erection with how much they were giggling at each other’s stupid comments and joking. 

“Alright, you ready?” Mark asked as he grabbed Jack’s hips, pulling him a bit closer.

“Are we fucking like this?”

The man paused, bringing his eyebrows together as he thought. “On second thought, no.”

Once again, they flipped, Jack landing on the pillows with a ‘pmft’ from the mattress, swinging one of Jack’s legs over his shoulder in one fell swoop. The new position was subject to getting uncomfortable fast, but Jack was sure he could survive it as Mark made a loose fist around his own length, stroking it a few times to get it to _maximum hardness_. Come to think about it, how did Mark know to fall into that position immediately? 

Probably gay porn. 

“Now we’re ready,” Mark declared and Jack pursed his lips teasingly.

“Mighty assumptuous.”

Mark eyeballed Jack’s erection. “Well, you’re kinda giving me some obvious signals.”

“Just because my dick is ready doesn’t mean my ass is.”

“You aren’t telling me otherwise.”

Jack grabbed Mark’s shoulders, squeezing them slightly at the ~~familiar~~ feeling of a condom-covered dick against his asscheek. 

“That could be considered rape,” Jack joked through his teeth, and Mark met his gaze, concerned. Jack snorted. “ _Could be_ , Mark. It’s not. You’re fine.” Mark hesitated. “If you don’t move, I swear to f _uck_ \--”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it! Jesus…” Mark muttered with a smile as they both took in a shaky breath at the same time. Guess they were both anxious. Jack bit his lip as Mark rubbed his tip against Jack’s entrance, letting out an unsettled sigh. Jack tensed at the feeling, causing Mark to pause, looking up to make sure the Irishman was okay. After a soft nod from the green-haired man below him, Mark deemed it safe to continue, pushing forward slightly, slowly, moving his hand off Jack’s shin and gripping his hips with both hands now, guiding Jack’s body closer to meet him. 

“fff _fuCK!_ ” Jack gasped as Mark’s cock moved further inside of him, arching his back slightly at the sensation. Mark paused at the outburst from the man below him, meeting the Irishman’s gaze with unfocused eyes. Jack bit his lip and managed a small nod, hands flying off Mark’s shoulders to grab the bedsheets in tight handfuls. Another swear bubbled in Jack’s throat, but he choked it back when a soft groan from above him sounded from Mark’s gullet as the stripper bent over Jack slightly, pressing a deep kiss to his lips. 

“Ready?” Mark asked again in a voice deeper than his original voice, gruff and crude. Jack couldn’t even respond with how dizzy he was; the room was spinning, his nerves were on fire, his senses were muted. He felt like he was underwater, and the slight roll of his hips caused shivers down his spine because _fuck_ he _NEEDED_ Mark to just _wreck_ him already!

The rolling of his hips was all it took for Mark to lose any sense of control; pulling out and thrusting back in harshly, harsh enough for Jack to wince, arch his back, and _moan._

And _fuck_ ; Mark wasn’t sure how he didn’t immediately cum at that. With how good the foreign man felt around his dick, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last as he drew his hips out and forced himself back in at a much slower pace. Jack was writhing now, clearly uncomfortable at the new speed and the fact his dick was aching. As if sensing what he wanted (and probably due to the stream of precum leaking onto his stomach, pooling under his belly button), Mark wrapped a hand around Jack’s erect member, stroking it with an uneven pace as he continued to pull out and thrust, also at an uneven pace. A few more moments with that, Mark was sure to cum soon.

Jack let out a broken groan as he came in Mark’s hand, and that was it. Mark grabbed Jack’s hips with both hands again, ramming into a few times before burying himself balls deep into the man he met a little less than a month (or had it been two…?) ago, releasing his load into the Irishman’s ‘arse’ (or the condom thereof). They stayed like that for a second or two, just panting and savoring the moment before Mark finally slid out of the man below him, feeling disgusted with the full contraception around his half-chub, sliding Jack’s leg off his shoulder as he peeled it off.

Jack hissed as his leg fell out of it’s position, massaging his thigh. Damn his gamer legs. Mark let out a disgusted noise as he took the condom off carefully, squinting in the dark for a trashcan. 

“I’m gonna turn on the li-- FUCK!”

Jack burst into laughter as Mark tripped over a pair of pants, another noise of repulsion escaping him. 

“I think I just put my hand on the damn thing.”

Jack rolled over slightly, still laughing, laughter melding into ‘ow’s as the mild pain in his backside came back. He winced as the light came on, bright and powerful, and penetrating their skulls. Mark leaned down slightly to put the rubber in the trash can conveniently near the door, and Jack looked at him.

_Really_ looked at him. And hot damn was he sexy. He had muscles from swinging his weight around a pole for years, the shadow of abs on his stomach. He was really attractive, and he probably knew it. He turned around to face Jack, smiling at him, and that’s when Jack realized that he was naked in front of this man; a small, frail, white-skinned man against the navy sheets he was on, like paper on asphalt. He was fully aware of how he looked compared to the man across the room.

And he _hated_ himself.

Scouting for his boxers, Jack rolled over, feeling the results of his orgasm on his stomach, causing him to cringe. He pulled open the bedside dresser’s first drawer, surprised to find some antibacterial wipes there. He tore one open and wiped himself down silently, stretching his leg forward to pick up his underwear with his toes. Mark beat him to it, though, picking up Jack’s pants (and underpants) and tossing them to him, already holding his.

“Thanks,” Jack said as he handed the sheet to Mark, who began to use the clean parts to wipe his hands. He tossed it into the bin behind him as they both got dressed, once again in silence. Mark’s previous words came back to him as he wondered what would’ve happened if Jack didn’t go with him when he asked.

“That was more than a minute,” Jack said as he wormed his jeans back on, passing a glance at Mark, who was buttoning his jeans already.

“Fuck off.”

They both chuckled to themselves as they straighened up, cracking a window to get the smell of sex out of the room as they turned off the light and fled, hand-in-hand.

 

**BONUSSS**

Barry looked to the hallway Jack and Mark disappeared down a few minutes ago. “What’re they doing in there?” 

“Fucking,” Arin answered nonchalantly, taking a bite out of his pizza as the game loaded. Danny was sitting on the couch above him, playing with Arin’s hair. Ross had his head on Barry’s lap, and Holly was between Ross’s legs, snuggling him. Suzy and Other-Jack were in the kitchen, and Brian was sitting on the opposite side of Danny. Behind the couch, Matt screeched at his DS while Ryan chuckled.

“No way,” Ross snorted. “Isn’t Jack dating that one kid he brought last time? Taylor?”

Arin nearly choked on his bite of pizza. “You mean Craig?”

“Yeah, him.”

Danny giggled, hand flying to his face as he laughed. “‘Taylor’?”

“Shut up, okay?”

“Not as far as I know,” Barry disagreed, looking back at the screen. “I think Jack is single.”

“What else could they be doing back there?” Arin argued. “Mark said he was going to get some Irish ass tonight, and that’s exactly what he’s doing!”

“Are you sur--” 

Before Ross could finish, an unmistakable noise came from down the hallway, making everybody fall quiet. Even the game’s music hesitated at the sound before Arin paused the game.

“Was that…?”

Another moan came from the corridor, and everybody began to incoherently speak as Arin continued the game (turning up the sound), Danny talked to Barry, and Matt and Ryan conversed about the game they were playing. After a few seconds, Ross began to cackle. “I knew he would be loud in bed.”

“ _ **ROSS**_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck. Did this. Take me. Over a month to write.
> 
> What the fuck.
> 
> All that conversation was a real boner kill; it's a shock that they managed to hold their erections for that long without throwing themselves out a window. 
> 
> Sorry if some words got repeated, or if some things were mentioned that I totally dropped; I wrote a bit of this every week. I apologize sincerely for any such instances.
> 
> I’m also sorry if going italic halfway through a word is annoying; it’s just kinda fun to look at for me oDo


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~totally didn't accidentally delete this chapter nope~~

The club was just as crowded as Jack remembered it to be, bodies pressed against each other, music loud enough to even make Jack’s eardrums pulse; the smell of alcohol and cigarettes heavy in the air, and the dancers rowdy, waiters impatient, and everybody was just _horny_.

Jack would’ve been at home playing Overwatch and kicking everybody’s asses, but right as he was planning to boot up the game, Craig shot him a text, saying that he should meet him, Aaron, and Alex at the club, as it’d been awhile since they last went. Sure, a few days ago they met up for coffee, and then played some ( ~~would you believe it~~ ) Overwatch until ungodly hours in the morning, all of them crashing at roughly the same time. Jack knew Mark wouldn’t be working, so he wouldn’t get distracted by ~~his hot boyfriend~~ the hot dancer, and said ‘fuck it’, agreeing to meet him at 8. And there he was. At 8. With no Craig, Aaron, _or_ Alex. Jack was tempted to get up and leave when somebody slid into the booth across from him. He looked up to see, low-and-behold, the black hair of Craig, who was brushing some strands from his face. 

“Hey, sorry for being late,” Craig apologized uncharacteristically, and Jack waved him off, looking around.

“Where’s A2?” he joked, meeting Craig’s gaze, who seemed to snap out of his thoughts right then, glancing into the crowd.

“They aren’t… uh… th-they can’t make it,” Craig stuttered, and Jack raised an eyebrow, grabbing his phone and looking at it. 96% and no messages. 

“Really? I would’ve thought--”

“Yeah, no, something came up,” Craig hurriedly said, and Jack eyed him incredulously before shrugging. 

“They better not be playing Overwatch without us,” Jack joshed, ignoring the sense of dread causing tingles on his spine. Craig was tapping the table, staring at the bar, scanning it.

“No, no, it was something important. Family stuff, I think.”

“Oh, I hope everything’s okay,” Jack pursed his lips as he unlocked his phone, opening his messaging and tapping on Mark’s thread.

“No need to message them!” Craig squeaked a little too eagerly, and Jack looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

“I… was texting Mark.”

“...oh…”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them, Craig looking around before waving his hand to signal a waiter as Jack typed a message to Mark, telling him that if he sees anybody named ‘AaronColours’ or ‘All-Ex_Nelson69’ on Overwatch to yell at them for him before locking his phone and ordering his normal White Russian and some onion fries. The man nodded and scurried away, leaving Craig and Jack alone again.

The air felt wrong.

**Message from: Markle**   
_ >Uhm… they’re online right now._

Jack felt his stomach turn, passing a glance to Craig, who was shifting in his seat, anxious. Nervous. As if he _knew_ Jack knew.

Everything about this was wrong.

**Message to: Markle**   
_ >You’re kidding me._

**Message from: Markle**   
_ >No. In fact, we’re kicking ass._

This wasn’t right.

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >Where are you?_

Jack put his phone on his lap and thanked the waiter, who nodded, told them their food would be out shortly, and left again. Jack risked another glance to Craig, who was looking at his phone. Jack’s own device buzzed on his leg.

“S-So, Jack, how’ve you been?”

Jack blinked as he looked at his phone. “Good, you?”

**Message from: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >At home, playing Overwatch. Where are YOU? Your fuckboy stripper just yelled at me for you._

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >I’m at the club with Craig. He told me that we were supposed to be meeting here._   
_ >>He told me you and Alex had a ‘family problem’ and couldn’t make it_

“I’m good,” Craig nodded, taking in a shaky breath.

“Are you sure? You seem really nervous, and it’s freaking me out,” Jack admitted, and Craig startled.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it. I just had something to drink before I came here.”

Jack nodded, not really buying it, but not knowing what else to say. Not knowing what else to believe. 

**Message from: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >Oh no._   
_ >>Jack, you gotta get out of there. Go to the bathroom or something, but cover your drink. Put a pen on top of it or something. Do SOMETHING so you know if anybody touched it._

Jack raised an eyebrow, took another sip of his drink, and picked up a napkin, folding it in a weird way before putting it over his drink and sliding out of the booth, remembering what way the logo was facing, how the crease looked, before meeting Craig’s erratic gaze. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Gotta go to the bathroom real quick.”

Craig nodded, rubbing his nose slightly as Jack turned around and walked towards a sign pointing to the bathroom.

**Message from: Markle**   
_ >Is everything alright? Aaron’s freaking out on me rn._

Jack held his phone to his chest as he pushed the door open, stepping inside and leaning against the sink.

**Message to: Markle**   
_ >It’s fine. I think. I hope. I don’t know._

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >Okay. There now._

Immediately, he started to get a call, and he answered it, confused. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Jack, Craig likes you. Like, a lot,” Aaron immediately began, sounding panicked. “It’s insane. He’s, like, _yandere_ for you, hardcore. Him being with you alone, him being with you alone and _drunk_ is bad. Bad for you, bad for Mark, bad for everybody. You gotta get outta there, man.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, brain piecing together the puzzle. Craig was so nervous because he liked Jack, and they were finally alone together, without risk of Mark interrupting, or Jack’s attention being elsewhere. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m just worried,” Aaron huffed, an edge still in his voice. “I’m worried he might pull something. I don’t even know if you should drink when you get back; just drop it and ask for another.”

“You think _Craig_ would’ve drugged my drink?” Jack scoffed, tailbone hitting the sink. “I doubt it.”

“I don’t know, Jack…” 

“Jack, Aaron’s usually right about this type of stuff,” Alex butt in, and Jack smiled.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Hey. Anyway, one time Aaron and I left our drinks unattended, and when we came back, Aaron made us both dump them out. Somebody a few seats down looked _really_ relieved, and when we were about to leave, they came up and told us that we were smart for doing that, because some asshole dressing in all black came over and put something in _both_ our drinks. Both!”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know. We all know Craig pretty well; well enough to know that he wouldn’t do that.”

“When it comes to you, I’m sure he’d do anything, especially with his spot being threatened by Mark.”

Jack sighed. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it. Thanks, guys.”

They said goodbye and Jack heaved himself off the sink, washing his hands for good measure before heading back into the club.

When he sat back down, Craig shifted again, watching as Jack inspected the napkin. It seemed to be in it’s place, so he took it off, picked up a fry, and chewed on it, looking at his phone.

**Message from: Markle**   
_ >You think? Where are you?_   
_ >>Nevermind, Aaron just told me. You’re out with Craig?_

**Message to: Markle**   
_ >As friends; don’t get jealous on me._

Jack popped another fry in his mouth and stared at his phone.

“Aren’t you gonna drink?” Craig offered, and Jack couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, yeah.” As he went to reach it, he purposely knocked into it, the contents spilling onto the table and floor, causing Jack to yelp and Craig to actually look _stressed._ “Ah, shite,” Jack sighed as he picked his glass back up, dabbing the mess with a napkin.

“O-Oh, my goodness! I’ll get you a refill right away,” the (conveniently walking by) waiter gasped as he took Jack’s glass and sped away, leaving Jack to continue to try and mop up his mess. 

“Well, drat,” Jack sighed, taking another fry into his mouth. “My mouth’s dry, too.”

Craig chuckled softly. “Then stop eating.”

“But they’re so good.”

**Message from: Markle**   
_ >I’m not jealous, but I am worried. Aaron explained the situation to me over text. It doesn’t sound good. Stay safe, and stay in touch, okay?_

**Message to: Markle**   
_ >Of course <3_

The waiter set Jack’s drink down, as well as the bill. “Here you are, sir. Be careful next time.”

“Will do,” Jack said, looking up just in time to catch the look Craig was giving the server before he scurried away and Craig looked back at Jack.

He didn’t trust this. At all. But he still lifted the glass to his lips and drank.

“Yeah, that’s better,” Jack nodded as he continued to text.

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >If you don’t hear back from me, call the cops._

**Message from: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >Want me to come pick you up, just in case?_

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >How fast can you get here?_

Craig took one of Jack’s fries and ate it in silence, staring at his phone, but not doing anything. Jack looked up at him as he took another drink. 

“Expecting a call?”

Craig jolted, putting his phone down and looking up at his Irish companion. “Wh-- no, no.. You’re on your phone, so I figured I should be, too.”

Jack blinked, and then he laughed. 

**Message from: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >20 minutes. If you feel dizzy, head into the bathroom, or go to your car and get into the backseat, lock your doors, and lay on the floor; do anything to stay out of Craig’s sight. Call the cops if you have to. Just… don’t let him get you or anything. Don’t pass out in front of him._   
_ >>Stay strong for us, Jack. Realize you have superpowers right now and power through it in case he drugged you._

**Message to: Arsehole Aaron**   
_ >I doubt it, but okay lol_   
_ >>Time for Jackieboy Man to rise_

Jack’s head felt fuzzy, but he passed it off as the effects of him drinking finally kicking in. He, too, had a few stronger drinks, to prepare for Overwatch, before he came, so it’d only make sense if he began to get a bit tipsy after that _plus_ what would probably total as a cup of White Russian.

He’d already used the bathroom excuse. Fucking dammit. 

“Hey, my uh… my mom is calling,” Jack settled on, holding his phone up. “Says it’s a real emergency.”

Craig nodded, taking a sip of his own drink. “Okay.” 

He seemed… only okay with the excuse, but Jack paid no mind as he, again, made his way to the bathroom, calling up the person he knew wasn’t driving.

“Jack?”

“Mark,” said Irishman breathed as he stumbled into the bathroom, leaning his head on his forearm, resting it against the wall. Everything was spinning. “Mark, listen to me. Aaron’s going to be here soon, so you probably won’t have to do this, but, just in case, if you don’t hear back from me, Craig’s address is--”

Somebody grabbed him by his shoulder, spinning him around to face the bathroom door. He saw the flash of black and milky white skin before a fist was thrown, decking him in the face. He dropped his phone, bending over slightly as he clutched his nose. His fighter instinct took its damn time due to his suddenly very stunted senses, rendering him helpless as his attacker grabbed the back of his head, pulling it up before slamming him against the sink, _hard_ , knocking him out cold.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE NOTE THAT THERE IS A LOT OF NONCON HAPPENING IN THIS CHAPTER. NO LIKEY, MAYBE COME BACK IN LATER.**

Jack’s ears were ringing. Loudly. His head hurt like a bitch. Where was he? Something was over his eyes. A blindfold? Why was that there? He tried to pull his arms up to remove the mask, but something bit them. Rope? Why was rope holding him? What was it holding him _to_? A chair? Jack wiggled in place. His feet were on the ground, knees bent, back straight against something. Yep, a chair. There was a crook in his neck, probably from sleeping slumped in a _chair_ with his _arms_ tied _behind_ him. 

Jack didn’t have a panic switch. 

In this moment, though, he couldn’t tell if he was loathing or loving the fact he didn’t. 

“H-Hello?” His voice cracked, his voice cutting through the silence, biting back into his ears. He sounded so helpless, so lost… so afraid. Jack struggled against the ropes, wincing as they dug into his arms, his wrists, his waist. He was still wearing his shirt, his jeans, his shoes, even. Gross. He hated wearing his shoes for prolonged times. 

Nothing moved in the space around him. The blindfold was really making him anxious. He can’t tell if something’s directly in front of him. He won’t be able to tell what something is if something touches him. He took a breath in, inhaling the slightly musky air. Musk… was he in a warehouse? That’d probably make the most sense, if he’d been kidnapped. 

His face pulsed. He tried to think of why, and met with the adrenaline rush of somebody punching him in the face.. 

Who?

He saw black. Classic kidnapper clothing. How did they leave? 

Craig was wearing black, too. 

Did Craig seriously sock him in the face? Why the fuck?

He remembered Aaron warning him about Craig possibly drugging him. He remembered feeling fuzzy, and excusing himself to the bathroom to call...

Mark.

Where was his phone?

He dropped it on the bathroom floor. It probably cracked. Did ~~Craig~~ his attacker pick it up, at least? 

Dammit.

Dammit, dammit, dammit, _dammit_!

Where the _fuck_ was he?!

Jack pushed his arms against the ropes holding him, hoping they would give. His arms were beginning to hurt. He’d get scars before he’d get free. 

Why would Craig do this? What was his motive? Didn’t he know that Jack wasn’t interested? Is that why he did this? To force himself onto Jack?

Jack was _not_ about to get raped by his “friend”. 

Was that even what Craig was planning on doing, or was Jack overreacting? He doubted highly that Craig would even do such a thi--

A door opened, Jack’s ears straining to hear it. Somebody was walking towards him, the sound ringing around him painfully. His skin crawled in anticipation as the steps stopped in front of him, and the sound of fabric straining was heard as somebody leaned down to his height. Jack let out a yelp as something reached out and touched his face-- a hand. The person breathed out, before grabbing Jack’s blindfold and took it off. Jack kept his eyes closed for a second, trying to gauge if a light was on, before slowly opening them. The room was still dark, and it took them a minute to adjust to the darkness. A figure was kneeling in front of him, the darkness too thick for Jack to see who, and he didn’t even want to guess. The person stood, ruffling Jack’s hair, the Irishman’s shoulders going to his ears as he tried to shy away from the hand before they drew away, walking away slightly.

“Good to see you’re awake.”

No way. 

“Craig?” Jack wasn’t surprised when his voice came out relatively strong, if not laced with concern. 

“That’s my name. Glad to see you don’t have amnesia,” the man joked just loud enough to be heard over the boxes he was messing with.

“Okay, you got me. G-Goofed me!” Jack tugged a bit at the ropes, as if they were going to give out right then. Of course they wouldn’t.

Craig chuckled, dropping another box before shuffling slightly, the corner he was in illuminating with the glow of a nightlight. It, miraculously, was bright enough to reach the area where Jack was, giving him at least a small look at the area around him. He was right, he was in a warehouse. Or maybe a basement… 

How stupid would it be if they were in Craig’s basement though?

At least Aaron and Alex know where Craig live, so there was a lower possibility that they were actually on his property. 

“Oh, Jack, we aren’t even halfway done.”

Jack’s blood ran cold as Craig slowly walked up to him, taking deliberate steps, each one putting him more and more on edge. 

“I tried to be nice, tried to wait it out, but the moment I thought I was in the clear, that stripper came out of nowhere and suddenly you were wrenched from my grip. You know how painful that is?” Craig hissed, walking behind Jack to lean down and murmur in his ear: “First, I had to wait for you and your girlfriend to break up, and when that finally happened, I wanted to make sure you had space to get over it. No need to rush into things.” Craig danced his fingertips against the back of Jack’s neck, causing him to shiver against his will. “Or so I thought. When enough time had finally passed, I was ready to make my move, when Aaron invited us to that stupid club. And the way you _looked_ at that damn waiter.” 

Suddenly, a hand was in Jack’s hair, tugging the green locks painfully. Jack let out a grunt at the sensation,allowing his head to go with the hand, twisting his eyes shut as lips ghosted over his jawline. 

“I never really imagined myself to be a jealous person; generally, I’m really good at hiding my feelings, but Aaron and Alex both picked up on them and you never did. You were too busy ogling that sun kissed American whore. And in the beginning, I was okay. I was fine with it. I even shipped it! But then you had that falling out and I realized that he wasn’t the one for you; his job is to hit-it-and-quit-it, but what happened? You two start dating, which should totally be against stripper protocol because now his job is in danger at _your_ fault.”

“I already spoke to him about it,” Jack grumbled, his voice coming out deeper than he wanted it to. “We agreed that it’s fine; it’s his life.”

“You don’t deserve that type of treatment.”

“It’s a job, Crai--” A sharp yank on his locks was enough to stop Jack’s vocal cords dead in their tracks. “Can you not? Do that??” he grumbled as Craig went from pulling his hair to massaging his scalp. 

“There are other jobs.”

“Yes, but maybe Mark doesn’t _want_ another job.”

“Do _you_ want him to get another job?”

“No!” Jack sputtered. “It’s not my concern!”

“Not your-- you’re his _boyfriend_!” 

“What or who he does doesn’t concern me because it’s his _job_.”

“But you’re still--” Craig stopped short, clenching his jaw and rolling his neck. 

“Besides, if you know Mark and I are dating, then why did you do this?” Jack hissed, but Craig didn’t speak as hands tugged at his ropes, untying him from the chair. Immediately, Jack took hold of his wrists, pushing up from the seat and rubbing the blood back into his hands. At least _something_ knocked more sense into the ravenet. He gnawed the inside of his cheek as he looked around, eyes focusing on the exit. “Anyway, while this was fun, I should--”

A yelp escaped the Irishman as somebody crashed into him from behind, knocking him to the cold ground as he tried not to knock his head against it, catching himself with his hands in a (surprisingly) not painfully way. “What the fuck-- Craig?!”

His face hit the floor as Craig ripped his arms away from him, holding them above his head and _rolling his shirt up._

“Craig-- Craig, s _top_???” 

The man didn’t let up, completely tugging the shirt off against Jack’s struggles, slamming his wrists back onto the concrete the moment Jack tried to use his hands. His face was beginning to hurt from being pushed against the dirty floor for so long, and he could just feel the dirt climbing into his pores. 

Not like it mattered right now, but it was still happening.

The feeling of the rope being pushed against his arms again made Jack growl as he tried to get to at least his knees, though Craig seemed very determined to keep him on the ground. “I really don’t fucking understand,” Jack bit, “why the hell you’re doing this. If you really cared about me, you wouldn’t be trying to tie me up with rope. Because that _fucking hurts_ , man.”

“Sorry, _princess_ ,” Craig barked as he pulled Jack’s arms together, snarling under his breath as Jack struggled harder. “Am I hurting you?” Sarcasm was practically dripping like drool off his tongue, and Jack scoffed as he felt himself be picked up so he was sitting back on his heels. How Craig managed to do that by simply tugging his arm, Jack was uncertain. Probably from the pain.

Jack’s blood was pounding hard in his ears. 

Now sitting shirtless with his arms tied behind him, Jack was left uncertain as Craig seemed to disappear. His breathing had stopped, all contact had been cut off… Jack was just… there. For a second he assumed that Craig had actually left, until he watched as the same blindfold that had been on him before flew from behind him, clamping over his eyes. Jack winced as Craig tied it back, his hands falling from the new knot to rest on his shoulders, pressing his lips to Jack’s neck softly. Jack cursed internally as he felt hot breath against his skin.

“I’m going to make sure everybody knows you’re mine.”

Before Jack could say anything, teeth dug into his shoulder, causing him to yelp in surprise/pain. Craig’s hands snaked around his torso, gripping his chest hard enough to leave marks.

“C-Craig,” Jack groaned, assuring himself it was out of pain and not because Craig was nipping the back of his neck, panting against him purposefully. Why’d his neck have to be so damn sensitive?? “Stop.”

“God, I love the way you say my name…” He growled, trailing his nose against Jack’s skin. He tried to suppress a shiver, but failed as he tried to pull away.

“Seriously ma-aaHN~!” Jack gasped as Craig’s hands tugged on his hair, most likely making a few green strands fall out. Craig wasnt exactly a virgin, and knew what to do when against another man's body.

“You're mine,” he husked against Jack's ear, dragging his teeth against it. “You hear me? You're mine, and only mine.”

He kissed a spot where Jack felt Mark leave a hickey, and he hissed as Craig bit it. 

“None of this ‘Mark’ bullshit.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but when he did, two fingers were pressed against his tongue, causing the words to come out muffled. In his attempt to push the intrusions from his mouth with his tongue, he slipped his tongue between the two digits. Craig began to rub the tip of one of his fingers against the muscle, and Jack groaned in discomfort. His jaw shut immediately, clamping hard around Craig’s fingers, but instead of pulling away, Craig simple swore as his mouth returned to Jack’s neck, biting hard. Jack was the first to give in, opening his mouth to let out a strangled cry before Craig pulled his hand out, releasing Jack’s neck. The spot tingled, numbing under his venomous saliva. “Well,” Jack stuttered, gagging at the dirt left on his tongue. “That’s gonna be hard because he’s my, uh, _boyfriend_?”

Craig chuckled darkly, detaching himself from Jack’s body and standing, his footsteps leading away from Jack’s kneeling frame. “Oh, not for long.”

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. Part of him thought he should be more concerned, more worried, more anxious and more scared, being as Craig seemed deadly serious about this whole thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to be. Craig was a friend- _was_ \- to him; he still thought this was some stupid prank. It seemed… scripted? 

Maybe Jack was just insane and a masochist. 

Maybe, deep down, Jack wanted this. Maybe he wanted to be tied up and shoved against the floor and just _dominated_.

Maybe he wanted Craig to do it.

...was that Stockholm already? Damn.

Jack didn’t know for how long he was up his thoughts, but he was damn sure back in reality the moment he felt something scratchy wrap around his neck. 

He instantly tried to jut out of the way, going as far as to fall backwards against Craig’s legs, bringing one leg up to push himself farther away as he chanted ‘nope nope nope nope’. Craig huffed above him. “That’s cute and all, but I’d like if you stood still.”

“I’d like if you kept that the fuck away from my neck!” Jack deadpanned as he continued to try and scramble away, aware that he probably looked retarded as he pushed himself back, then slammed back on his wrists repeatedly in a hurried motion.

“Then how can I strangle you?”

“Just _don’t_!”

A foot connected with Jack’s chest, knocking the air out of him momentarily. Jack writhed on the ground as he felt Craig sit on him, pulling his head up by his hair to slide the rope under his neck and wrap it around the front. 

“ _Please!_ ” The cry was broken as Jack cringed from the feeling, gagging slightly. The pain from his crushed wrists, paired with the rope burn he was getting from moving his arms too much had caused his eyes to begin to water, and this just added to the feeling. He was still trying to breathe with Craig’s weight on him.

“Are you gonna sit still like a good boy now?”

Jack bared his teeth up, causing Craig to coo spitefully. “Fuck no.”

And with that, Jack lifted his head and banged it as hard as he could against the ground, falling into an instant comatose.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~where did she come from where did she go where the fuck has she been i don’t know~~
> 
>  
> 
> Also sorry if they’re out of character, it’s been… _**ages**_ since I’ve written or read anything about them i’m so soRRY.
> 
> ~~also i told you i'd get a chapter out in june so hAH~~  
>  ~~im sorry i love you tysm for being so patient with me <3~~

Jack blinked, his gaze focusing in and out on the figure above him. Had he not knocked himself out like he wanted to? For fuck’s sakes; he couldn’t handle much more of this. His ears were ringing from the impact of his skull on _concrete_ , but once it died enough, he could hear the voice above him, concerned and broken.

“-ack? _Jack_!”

“What?” Jack snapped, closing his eyes. Light was pooling in from somewhere, making his eyes feel as if somebody just poured acid on them. 

Correction: light was pooling on from _everywhere_.

A sob caused his eyes to open again, cracking them to look at the bubble-blowing baby beside him. His eyes finally adjusted to the harsh artificial lighting, and lo-behold _his_ bubble-blowing baby. The light made him seem heavenly, though Jack wouldn’t tell him that. ~~His ego was big enough as it was.~~ “Omigod; you’re awake.”

“No shit,” Jack sighed as he blinked a few more times, going to lift up one of his arms. A sharp pain in his wrist cried in protest, causing him to stop and look down to figure out what the fuck. Both wrists were bandaged, and he gave each a tentative roll before wincing. He’d be playing with that for a while.

...huh. Maybe he _was_ a masochist. 

“Where am I?” he asked, looking up at his boyfriend, Mark Fischbach. 

“The hospital.”

“Where’s Craig?”

Something flashed in Mark’s eyes, but he averted his gaze as he wiped his tears with the heel of his palm. “Jail.”

“Jail?” Jack repeated in disbelief. Was this because of the whole BDSM bullshit he tried to pull? 

Mark nodded. “Yeah. After you disappeared from the bar that night, we got caught up with the police, as did most of the club. They said they’d search immediately, as Aaron gave them Craig’s address, yet when they went, nobody was there. We stayed up all night, trying to figure out where you were and call Craig’s cell, but it always went straight to voicemail. It was around 5 AM when I finally got a text from Alex saying that Craig just texted him an address, so we all went there. It was an old warehouse, or studio, or something. When we went in, you were right there, on the ground, the back-” 

Mark stopped, his voice catching as he held his fist to his mouth, looking away as more tears brimmed in his eyes. Jack reached forward through the pain and grabbed Mark’s arm, pulling it down to hold his hand. Mark smiled shakily at him before inhaling and continuing on: “-the back of your head was matted with blood. While I rushed you to the hospital, Aaron and Alex went to the police station to report that we found you just to witness Craig spilling his guts to the officers and get towed away for judgment.”

Jack’s heart twisted as tears finally trailed down Mark’s face, though he simply blinked through them, determined to finish his story.

“I got you here and immediately checked in, and, well… you’ve been out for three days.”

Jack breathed out. “What a ride.”

Mark chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah.”

“It could’ve been worse. I could’ve been out for three weeks.”

Mark let out a breath, smiling. “Thank God that didn’t happen.”

Jack nodded and (after making sure he had no needles pumping into him) rubbed slightly at his wrists. “Rope burn is killer.”

Mark frowned, biting the corner of his lip. “Is that what happened?”

“Yep. He thought it’d be funny if we performed a little”-Jack chuckled-“BDSM.”

Mark’s teeth clenched, furrowing his brow. “Marvelous.” There was a beat, then: “You sound pretty calm.”

“I don’t think I have a panic switch.”

He frowned. “What?”

“The whole time I was calm,” Jack said, looking away from Mark to look at where his legs were covered. “I don’t know why. I just… was indifferent. It was like I was emotionally detached from the whole situation. I’m sure Craig could’ve sucked my dick and all I would’ve said was ‘No don’t’.” Jack laughed. “That’s… not funny.”

Mark was looking at him worriedly, gnawing his bottom lip now. “Are you… okay? Should you see therapy?”

“Nah,” Jack waved Mark off, nearly laughing at the idea. “I think I bumped my head too hard. Or I’m just doped up too much. I dunno wh’t I’m s’yin’,” Jack slurred, closing his eyes and lolling his head for extra effect. 

“ _Bumped_?” Mark gawked, flailing his hands uselessly while fumbling for words. “It was _busted_ when we got there!” 

“Well, that explains it.”

“Jack!” 

“What?” Jack quipped back, pulling a face. “I’m fine, Mark; I’m just- I was just nearly raped by one of my best friends; excuse me for trying to lighten the mood a bit.”

Mark sighed, “I know. I’m sorry, I’m just- I’m worried.”

Jack felt his heart do a little flip, and he smiled, rubbing his thumb across Mark’s knuckles. “I appreciate that. Thank you for being here, Mark.”

“Thank you for not dying, you ass.” He sounded almost on the verge of tears.

The Irishman glared through his grin. “Not like I didn’t just almost die.”

Mark chuckled his deep, silky chuckle and Jack felt like he was already in heaven. “Like that would stop the incredible Jackieboy Man,” he said, and Jack snorted so hard he nearly hurt himself. 

“Where did you hear that? That’s only a joke between me and A-- _Aaron_.” He was going to drown that bastard in the alcohol that ran in his family’s bloodstream for betraying him this way.

“I just saw it looking through your messages to him,” Mark explained, laughing lightly, a weird look in his eye (Nostalgia? Love? Constipation??). “You really rock the color red.”

Jack groaned, head hitting his pillow as he cringed. “Oh, _fuck_. You had _no_ business going back that far.”

“I was going through your shared media!” The brown-haired male tried, letting go of Jack’s hand to hold his up in exasperation. “Maybe there’d be a clue or something- I don’t know! I just saw red and, _wow_. Not to hit on you so fast, but you really need to wear skin-tight onesies more.”

“Well, we’re dating,” Jack giggled (like a fucking child), “so you can hit on me all you want, but I don’t know if you’ve earned more skin-tight onesies.”

Mark opened his mouth to retort when he stopped, a fond look spreading across his face like a disease, and soon he was smiling so hard his eyes crinkled at the corners (and fuck Jack was going to die- are men even allowed to be this cute?). “I think I’m in love with you,” he all but sighed, and Jack rolled his eyes, swatting at Mark in faux annoyance.

“We’re really running this relationship on ‘thinks’?” The wording made them both laugh, and Jack used his hand (which was still up in the air from his attempt to hit his dorky boyfriend) to intertwine their fingers again. “Because methinks I’m in love with you, too.”

If Mark smiled any harder, Jack thought his cheeks would combust, and his head was beginning to hurt from laughing so hard.

“Oh, shit,” Jack chuckled, delirious and probably still high from the meds (would make sense as to why he was laughing so much), and he raised an aching hand to his head. “I think all this laughing is killing me.”

Still smiling like a teenage girl in love, Mark took their fingers apart (at this rate, Jack would begin to think Mark didn’t like holding hands ( ~~pleb~~ )) and pressed his ~~slightly sweaty~~ palm to Jack’s forehead. “Yeah, you’re burning up. You do realize you do have a button to call for a nurse, right?”

“No, it’s alright. _NURSE_?” Jack yelled, putting on a childish accent that sent Mark into a fit of hiccupping giggles, putting his fist to his mouth to try and muffle the beautiful noises coming from his blessed esophagus. Once they got done laughing (which took a minute because Jack giggled like a fucking toddler- a bubbling noise that was even foreign to Jack, which sent them into another fit of hysterics), Mark had took Jack’s hand back in both of his and looked into his eyes with nothing but love on his face, and told him fondly that he missed his ‘Irish ass’. 

“I’m offended,” Jack began, pouting and crossing his arms. “You only missed my ass?”

“It’s your best feature.”

Jack hummed, shrugging as he grinned at Mark’s smirking face. “Can’t argue there.”

And then they were chuckling again. Maybe they were so light-hearted because of the drugs and lack of sleep, but maybe it was because the events leading up to Jack’s hospitalization were so unlikely and chaotic that they could only laugh because, honestly, _what the fuck_? What were the chances that one of Jack’s closest friends was a rapist of some kind?

“So turns out,” a too-familiar voice said as they nearly kicked the door down, holding a piece of paper in one hand and their boyfriend’s fingers in the other, “that our beloved Craig has D.I.D.”

“What?” Jack voiced, face scrunched in confusion as Mark looked from Jack to Aaron and back again, clearly thinking the same thing.

“It’s-- Oh, _shit_ , Jack?!”

“No, it’s Billy,” Jack retorted instantly, grinning as Aaron nearly threw Alex at the bed and shrieked like a child.

“Holy fuck, Jack! You missed it! Mark was crying like a fucking _baby_.”

“That’s because he is a baby.”

“Yeah!” Mark agreed, then paused, blinking at Jack. “Wait, what?”

“Anyway,” Aaron continued as Alex shuffled up and wrapped his arms tentatively around Jack’s neck, giving him a tight hug that Jack happily reciprocated as Aaron waved his hands around, nearly smacking Mark with the paper in an attempt to hand it to him. “D.I.D stands for ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’- or multiple personalities.”

“Craig has multiple personalities?” Mark gawked, looking at Jack- probably for the confirmation he couldn’t provide, so when Alex pulled back, Jack gave a simple, surprised shrug.

“Yep. We’ve been dealing with the scene, angsty teenager for the majority of the time, but there’s also a really guilty man who lost his child when he was only three- the child, not the man-, who we met when Craig was turning himself in, and apparently some creepy-ass rapist guy who is heavily into BDSM. The guilty man hates the BDSM freak, so he ratted on said freak. Oh, and get this: the freak apparently tried to kill Craig’s body because he hates the teenager so much.”

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jack asked, stunned, as Aaron gave a smug look around the room and fixed his flannel a bit like the smooth-talking fucker he is. 

“The police gave me the full report because- well, for one, I asked, and because this is only the type of shit you see in fanfiction or stupid-ass crime shows,” Aaron elaborated as he nearly shoved Mark’s chair out of the way to smother Jack with suffocating affection. “I also mentioned that I was good friends with both the criminal and the victim and we all really want to know what the _fuck_.”

“Well, you got that right.” Mark’s tone was clearly stunned, his face showing that he was trying to process all the information that Aaron just dished out. 

“Oh, and Arin’s going to hold another huge-ass party to congratulate Jack on his not-death.”

There was a beat where Mark and Jack both stared at Aaron, blinking slowly, like reptiles trying to figure out what they were looking at. “What.”

“Typical Arin,” Mark sighed, shaking his head as he stood. “I think I’m going to go hit up McDonald’s or something. What do you want, Jack?”

“Uh… can I get a Release Form with a side of Dat Ass?” was Jack’s instant reply, which also managed to send the other three men into fits of laughter: Mark’s baritone cackle and Aaron’s and Alex’s snorts made a unique orchestra that sent Jack’s heart aflutter and left him grinning like a doofus, looking between them all, thinking ‘ _How did I luck out with such great friends?_

A cold feeling made his gut twist as he realized that not too long ago, Craig would have been among them, and he would have considered him a friend, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also hi, henlo, uh i'm sure this is riddled with mistakes and for that i'm sORRY plz don't hate me I love you all <\3


End file.
